#i am emphatic towards mc so much

[andinewton]

Since You’ve Been Gone - Mystic Messsenger Alternate V Ending Jumin x MC

I feel like I’ve been writing this for years!  It’s probably been just one year, but I finally finished it!  

The concept is this fic will have two (maybe three) endings. Both are set firstly during V’s two years away then moving into the party where he reappears.  The first, this fic, has MC and Jumin beginning a relationship, while the second has Jumin crushing on MC but her heart belongs to V.  Both a little angsty, though mostly that’s left to your imagination, with fluffy undertones too.  I think that about explains it!  I might even get around to a third ending which is the poly ending!  We’ll see how I go!

Since You’ve Been Gone - Mystic Messsenger Alternate V Ending Jumin x MC 

Relationships: Jumin x MC

Warnings: None, really.

Two years.  That’s how long it had been since you came to Korea on the promise of a position as a video games tester.  It had turned out not to be what you thought.  At all.  Firstly, you thought testing would be more technical, matching your fledgling skills more, but it turned out it was more  onsite beta testing on a prerelease.  Until it wasn’t.  Until it turned out that the AI’s you had been talking to were real people.  Until it turned out you were staying at the headquarters of a cult.  Until you had run from the place with a red haired hacker and an aqua eyed photographer.  Until you had played nursemaid to the latter while he sweat the poison the cult had given him out of his system.  Until you started to have feelings for him.

Throughout it all the one thing you were always sure of was the way you felt towards V, Jihyun.  You had liked him immediately, the way he trusted your word when the rest of RFA didn’t, he vouched for you, he saved you.  And then he was gone.

You understood, you really did.  Besides the fact his fiancee had been batshit crazy and started the cult in the first place, besides the fact she had not only almost blinded him but had stabbed him.  Besides all of that, you understood his need to find himself, to take time to rediscover who he was and what he wanted.  He still kept in contact, though sporadically, and it was enough for you to know he was safe and happy.  He had asked Jumin Han, his most trusted and oldest friend, to watch over both you and RFA, especially when you made it clear you had no desire to return to your home country, that you planned to stay on as RFA’s guest coordinator, if they would have you.  The answer was an emphatic yes and, after not very long, Jumin had offered you an apartment in a modest complex he owned at a reasonable rent.

You began working in a local office, turning down Jumin’s offer to work for C&R as you felt he had done enough for you.  However, that didn’t stop him calling you every day at least once, texting when he had time, and whenever you logged into the messenger he always seemed to be there.  Then he began calling into your office during your lunch break, saying he was in the area and would you like to join him for lunch, or he would call you to say he was passing and would you like a ride home.  He asked you to attend parties with him, business dinners, as you had proved to be confident in conversation with strangers without being overfamiliar.  It was a quality he admired and found many of his associates warmed to you quickly, allowing many deals to go through much smoother than he expected.

Then, finally, only a month ago, Jumin invited you to dinner at his penthouse.  You had come straight from work, wearing a navy slim leg pants suit and matching blouse decorated with lilac flowers, your shoes were sensible two inch heel pumps.  You had your bag slung over your shoulder and a raincoat over your arm.  The weather had promised showers.  They had blown over early but you were always prepared, if nothing else.  Driver Kim had dropped you outside the building where the head of security had been waiting to escort you to the penthouse without delay.  You were familiar with all of Jumin’s staff now, knowing them by name and able to make polite conversation with each one, even though it confused Jumin as to why you would want to know how a security official’s son’s last soccer match had gone.  You accepted that Jumin had been raised in a particularly elitist way and that he meant nothing by it, he didn’t mean to be rude he just didn’t know any different.  The fact he was so cordial and considerate of you, a mere office worker, meant it was less a status thing and more an employee/employer thing.  You thought.  You might be wrong.  Jumin was something of a puzzle in himself.  Often you would find yourself at dinner while he had his phone pressed to his ear, sipping your wine and regarding him curiously as he spoke.  You understood why Zen referred to him as a robot from the way he spoke and carried himself, so formal as to almost be painful, but you knew that inside that harsh exterior lay a man with so much passion for that which he deemed worthy.  You found him fascinating.  He could change subjects at a moments notice, something coming to his attention he simply had to tell you or address, and once he got something in his head there was no dislodging it until he had seen it through.  You were unsure what this dinner was in aid of, you could only guess the upcoming party.  You had had meetings with the entire RFA and with both Jaehee and Jumin, but this was the first time you had been invited to his penthouse alone.  You hoped everything was okay and that you hadn’t made some sort of error with the guest list.  This party was going to be the biggest yet, extremely extravagant and elegant, and you were worried that you may just screw up such an enormous event somehow.  Time to find out.

The chief of security knocked on the door and you respectfully stayed a few paces behind him.  Jumin never kept you waiting long and, sure enough, he opened the door just moments later, wearing one of his trademark three piece suits with matching tie and a striped shirt.  You had always considered this sort of outfit stuffy and formal but on Jumin it worked, it accentuated his figure without being loud or flashy, and you had to admit it was quite a nice figure.

You were close, you admitted that, perhaps closer to him than any other RFA member, but a large part of you denied what you actually felt.  He was V’s friend, and although the photographer had never confirmed that he considered you as anything other than a that himself, your mind still thought back to when he told you that if he was ever ready to love again he would consider you.  Consider you.  It felt like your emotions had been put on hold when he left, as though you weren’t permitted to think of anyone else until you knew for sure, but recently you had found yourself thinking more and more of Jumin and less and less of V.  Your heart seemed to know what this meant, however, your common sense had not yet caught up.

‘Ah, MC.’  He greeted you as he always did before turning to his head of security.  ‘That will be all.’

The security chief left as Jumin stepped back to allow you entry and took your coat from you without hesitation.

‘Are you well?’  He asked politely as you put your bag on the dresser by the door as always.

‘I’m fine, thank you, Jumin.  How was your day?’

‘Far too long.’  He admitted before stepping ahead of you.  ‘Allow me to get you some wine.’

‘Thank you.’  You replied as he disappeared into what you knew was his expansive kitchen.  You had never seen a kitchen so big and even that was only once.  Jumin liked to keep you out, as though going where the food was prepared burst the mysterious bubble behind its creation.  Instead you went to the large picture window that filled one entire wall of the suite, overlooking the city below, and you toyed with the locket the members of RFA had chosen for you as a gift on your last birthday.  You suspected, from the name of the jewellers it had come from, that Jumin had put in a good deal of the money towards it, although the thought was most likely Jaehee’s.

‘Here you are.’  Jumin said as he approached, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet below his feet, and you turned to accept your glass, but instead found him a bouquet of blue roses.

‘Jumin?’  You asked curiously as you took the bouquet when he offered it, tied with a matching ribbon and wrapped in delicate paper and plastic.  ‘What are these for?’

‘They are for you.’  He stated the obvious.  ‘Please, can we take a seat?’

‘They’re very beautiful, thank you.’  You said as you took in their scent and moved with him to the couch, finally realising he held two glasses of wine in his other hand.  You accepted one as you placed the flowers in your lap.  ‘But really, what did I do to deserve flowers?’

‘Do?  I don’t understand.’

‘You’ve never given me flowers before.’  You pointed out.  ‘There must be a reason, because you never do anything without one.’

You thought you saw him blush as he took a large sip of his wine before putting it on the table behind him.  ‘MC, I wished to talk with you, and I thought blue roses would be a good icebreaker for the conversation to come.’  He said formally and it made you frown slightly.

‘Okay, should I look up what blue roses mean so I know what’s going on?’

‘I shall explain, if you permit it?’

‘Of course.  It’ll take longer otherwise.’  You said encouragingly.

‘Very well.’  He adjusted his cuff before taking the flowers and wine from your hands again and placing them with his own.  He turned back to face you and seemed to compose himself before he began.  ‘MC.’

‘Jumin.’  You replied overly seriously, hoping to put him at ease.

‘I am trying to be serious.’  He huffed out a breath.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous.’  You rested your hand on his knee.  ‘Are you sure everything is alright?’

‘I am uncertain right is the wrong word, however I must clear the air between us before I can decide.’

‘Did something happen to V?’  You asked, thinking this may be the only thing that he would want to sit you down and talk about.

‘No, not at all.  He checked in just a few days ago, as you know.  He was in Alaska of all places.’

‘Then what is it?’

Jumin looked down at your hand on his knee then took it in both of his, holding it between you as though it were something more precious.  ‘MC, I feel it would be unfair on each of us if we were to carry on as we are without me expressing to you the changes I have felt.’

‘Things have changed?’  You asked in concern, assuming you had done something wrong to make him think so.  ‘Please, tell me what it is, and I’ll change it back, if I can.’

‘I do not need you to change anything, to my eyes you are perfect.’  He said sincerely and you felt a blush tint your cheeks.  ‘Which is what I wish to tell you, and I would appreciate you hearing me out before you ask any questions.’  When you nodded, concern now written on your face, he continued.  ‘I first of all wish you to know that this will change nothing between us, unless you want it to.  I am, if nothing else, honourable, I just feel that to not tell you would be tantamount to lying, which I will not participate in.  When V was injured by Rika I promised that I would take care of you, watch over you, and I have taken my duty very seriously, but now I find it less of a duty and more a necessity, a pleasure.  I enjoy spending time with you.’

‘I enjoy spending time with you too.’  You assured him, ideas still filling your head as to what he might be leading to.

‘I’m glad, and I do not want what I am about to say to stop you feeling that way, however I must confess.  I cannot deny my feelings for you any longer.  MC, I care for you very deeply, very much more than I do about anyone else in RFA.’

‘I care deeply for you too.’  You smiled, glad that it was only something he wanted to get off his chest.  You knew that Jumin didn’t like errant emotions.  They ruined his concentration.

‘I’m sorry, I am not explaining myself very well.  Perhaps I should use the roses.’

‘Alright.’  You were unsure what he meant but that but you tended to allow Jumin his eccentricities.

‘The blue rose is very rare, therefore it remains for many mysterious and unattainable.  I thought them the best way to express to you that although I want you, I know I shouldn’t, yet I cannot stop thinking about you, despite how inappropriate it is.’

He continued to talk but your brain switched off.  Something about being loyal to V, words of emotions, his heart speeding up whenever he saw you.  Jumin…liked you?  Had feelings for you?  This was…new.  Your stomach did a nervous flip-flop at the thought of staunch, austere Jumin Han confessing his feelings for you.  Suddenly it all became clear.  The many visits and calls, the fact you spent your day thinking about him, wondering if he had eaten and what.  He wasn’t alone in his feelings.

‘Say something, MC.  You’re being awfully quiet for you.’  He prompted and you did the only thing you could think of.  You leant in and kissed him.

Jumin couldn’t move with your lips pressed against his, and so he remained, unmoving and unresponsive, until you sat back, your cheeks flushed and eyes on your lap.

‘Jumin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’

You never finished as his hand slipped into your hair and he closed the gap between you, his lips stealing your words more effectively than anything he could have said.  His kiss was languid and slow, as though every motion brought a new flavour to him and he wanted to try them all.  His hand that still held you pulled you closer until you rested your free hand on his chest more for support than anything else, but you could suddenly feel his heart beating hard and fast against your palm, like a caged animal trying to escape.  You finally broke for air but Jumin held you in place with his hand on the nape of your neck, his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead to yours.

‘Do I take it you feel the same?’  He asked breathily, his already deep voice throaty and rough.

‘I do, I just…I never thought that you…’

‘How could I not?’  He brushed your nose with his own.  ‘You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the pleasure to know.  I feared, however, that my feelings may not be reciprocated and that I was somehow hurting V by acting on them.’

‘I’m not V’s.  I’m not anyone’s.’  You shook your head just enough to rock both you and Jumin from side to side.  ‘V only said that maybe one day he could love again, that maybe it could be me.  He never asked me to wait for him, he never asked me not to fall in…’  You stopped yourself before you confessed what your heart felt.  ‘I’m not V’s.’  You repeated finally.

‘Then would you, perhaps…consider being mine?’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Jumin wanted to make things official.  Jumin wanted everyone to know you were his.  It took a lot of convincing but you finally had him agree to keeping this between the two of you, just for now.  You had spent a lot of time together and even the press had ceased querying who you were, once they knew you were a member of the RFA.  Only the occasional tabloid still ran photos of you both and you were so used to that by now that it wasn’t an issue.  You were sure things would change if and when you did make it official, but for now, even from the RFA, it was your little secret.  The next RFA party was only weeks away so it only made sense that your meetings were increasing.  Between you, you had decided to tell the RFA first, before the party to be precise.  Things between you were going well and you saw no reason to keep things behind closed doors.

Jumin had tried to sway your choice of outfit that evening, wanting you to wear something from a famous designer, but you had chosen your dress months ago, beautiful but not expensive, not by the standards he was suggesting at least.  One thing you did allow him was to send a car for you as he was doing so for the rest of the RFA too.

The doorbell rang as you were applying the topcoat to your lipstick and you hurriedly put the lid on, not wanting to keep the driver waiting.  You had a small purse which was already slung across your body for convenience and you slipped the lipstick inside as you picked up the key to your apartment and opened the door.  You hadn’t been expecting Jumin himself to come and collect you, although really you should have guessed as much.  He looked dashing in a silver frock coat suit and cream cravat, a diamond pin glinting against it.  He smiled softly as his eyes took in your outfit and you knew now why he wanted to know the colour of your dress.  His silver and cream ensemble contrasted well with your own black and silver.  The dress was long sleeved, wraparound and ankle length with a split to your hip.  Across your breast and from your hip to your knee was black and silver sequinned, making it look like you wore a short dress underneath.  You had fastened the top of your hair back with a black and silver clip, the stones in which you doubted were even glass let alone actual gems, and your lobes sparkled with simple silver drop earrings.

‘You look exquisite.’  He greeted you, bowing his head to kiss your cheek.

‘Thank you.  I love your suit, very…you.’  You settled on.  ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I would not allow anyone else to accompany my lady to an event of such calibre, let alone unaccompanied.’  He reached for your hand, or so you thought, but instead you found a slender velvet box pressed into your waiting palm, and you glanced down at it in surprise.

‘What’s this?’

‘A gift.’  He said simply.

You stepped back and let him inside, closing the door before opening the box, your breath catching at the diamond bracelet within.  ‘Jumin, it’s lovely.’  You breathed as he took the box from you and fastened the item on your opposite wrist to your watch.

‘Not as lovely as you.’  He raised your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist.

‘Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what’s the occasion?’  You asked as his storm grey eyes looked into yours.

‘Do I need an occasion to treat you like a princess?’

‘Considering this probably cost more than a years salary for me, I think so.’

‘Then consider it a token of my affection.  Every diamond, like every star in the sky, cannot compete with the beauty before me.’

‘You’re too sweet.’  You went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, cupping his jaw with your palm.  ‘Thank you so much.’

‘Shall we?’

You left your apartment together, Jumin with his palm pressed to the centre of your back.  You had found it was a way of maintaining physical contact in public that didn’t draw suspicion, rather it drew attention to Jumin Han being the well raised gentleman everyone expected him to be.  It was more personal than anyone in RFA was used to him being and your friendship had not gone unnoticed, although no one realised quite how far it went.

You hadn’t been expecting a limo, although in truth you should have.  Jumin liked the finer things and as you were going somewhere the press would be awaiting your arrival then it stood to reason.  He let you in first then offered wine as soon as the driver closed the door.  You made smalltalk, Jumin sitting in a very deliberate position so his knee touched yours, his fingers brushing yours on the seat between you.

There was already a considerable crowd of press and gawkers when you arrived, despite knowing you were there long before any guests were due to enable you to go through final checks of equipment, place settings and, of course, the all important guest list.  Jaehee had been here for several hours already so you were certain everything would be perfect, but this was now your routine, where the parties were concerned.  Though none of you would admit it, it gave you a chance to each have a drink and chat before the evening kicked off, a brief catch up as you were all so busy you rarely saw one another in person.

Jumin alighted from the limo first, holding his hand to help you out as the press yelled his name and questions at the two of you, but while he was quick to release your hand he ushered you inside just as fast, not sparing a moment for the press.  You could see Jaehee across the room with her tablet in her hand, no doubt checking off last minute items with the staff who would shortly be milling with canapés and drinks.  Yoosung’s blond hair could be seen out on the terrace where he was no doubt talking to Zen, who would be having a last minute cigarette.  He had cut down recently but still it continued.  There was no sign of Saeyoung but he could simply be running late or working on the PA system behind the scenes.  A professional company always provided it but that didn’t stop him from tinkering whenever he got the chance.

Jaehee saw you and waved before finishing what she was doing, heading straight towards you both with a confident stride.  ‘Mr Han, MC.’  She greeted you both with a small nod of her head.  ‘Everything here is just about ready.’

‘Very good, Assistant Kang.’  Jumin replied.  ‘Is everyone from RFA here?’

‘All present and accounted for.  There was a small mix up with the wine you requested, however by way of an apology the company have provided us with a better vintage at no extra cost.’

‘Excellent.  Are we about ready to have our final meeting before the doors open?’

‘As soon as Saeyoung finishes what he is doing.’

‘Perfect.  Have wine poured for us all, I wish to propose a toast before we begin.’

‘Yes, sir.’  She walked away as quickly as she had arrived while you looked up at Jumin curiously.

‘We don’t normally get a drink until all the guests are here.’  You reminded him.

‘Tonight I wish to make an exception.’

‘For any particular reason?’  You teased, suspecting you now knew why.

‘I wish for our friends to be able to help us celebrate our happiness.’

‘For someone who’s reputation is that of a stern businessman, you really are quite the romantic.’

He leant towards you, and when he spoke it was quietly as the staff were now milling around in preparation, carrying trays of drinks for the guests.  ‘It just took the right woman to bring it out in me.’

‘Look who finally showed up,’ Zen greeted as he came back through the doors with Yoosung in tow, ‘now all the work is done.’

‘Was there anything for you to actually do when you arrived?’  Jumin quirked him an irritated eyebrow which changed to a scowl when Zen kissed your cheek.

‘That’s not the point.’  Zen graced you with his most dazzling smile.  ‘I hope this jerk didn’t bore you too much on the way in, jagiya?’

‘He was the perfect gentleman.’  You assured him as Yoosung gave Zen a playful nudge.

‘Don’t hog MC’s attention like that, Zen.’  The younger man groaned before you stepped forward and hugged him.

‘How are you, Yoosung?’  You asked.

‘A little tired.’  He blushed as you parted.  ‘I stayed up late on a raid.’

‘You knew we had a lot to do.’  You admonished him playfully.  ‘And a late night tonight.’

‘I know, but my guild were depending on me!’

‘We are depending you not to yawn all through the party.’  Jumin adjusted his cuff, a sure sign he was feeling nervous.

‘I won’t, don’t worry.’  Yoosung waved to someone and you turned to see Saeyoung emerge from one of the side doors.  ‘Looks like we’re nearly ready.’

‘Good.  Come.’  Jumin touched your elbow and you headed towards where the bar staff were pouring the wine he had requested.  Just moments later you all stood together, glasses in hand, everyone slightly confused by Jumin’s request for a toast before the party begun.  As soon as the area was clear of staff he cleared his throat before speaking.  ‘I think I should first apologise for lying to you all for so long.’

‘I knew it.’  Zen rolled his eyes.

‘This is it!’  Saeyoung laughed gleefully.  ‘He’s going to confirm the rumours!’

Jumin and Jaehee glared at Saeyoung while you rubbed at the bridge of your nose in a modified facepalm that also hid your faint smile.  ‘I am not going to even dignify that with a response.’  Jumin said disdainfully.  ‘I…we…merely wanted you all, as our friends, to be the first to know.’

‘We?’  Yoosung asked.  ‘We who?’

‘We us.  MC and I are…are…’  He looked at you for help as he struggled with the exact definition.  ‘No longer friends.’

‘Jumin, that’s not the best way to tell them!’  You laughed, lacing your fingers with his.  ‘We’re together.’

‘This…is a joke, right?’  Zen raised a hopeful eyebrow.

‘No joke.’  You said as Jumin replied; ‘I would not joke about such a thing.’

Everyone just stared at you for several moments, and finally it was Saeyoung who broke the silence.  ‘Congratulations!’  He thrust his glass forward, the golden liquid within sloshing at the edges.  ‘I, for one, am pleased for you both.’

Everyone else joined in with the congratulations then, even Zen, although he did give you a concerned look before mouthing; ‘Are you sure?’  To which you nodded with an emphatic grin.

‘Goodness!’  Jaehee put down her glass rapidly.  ‘Look at the time, I have to check in the guests!’

‘We should all take our places to welcome them.’  Jumin beckoned over a waiter to clear your glasses.

You began to walk away, planning to join Jaehee as you had invited the guests, but Jumin didn’t release your hand, pulling you back until you faced him.

‘That was not too terrifying, I hope?’

You shook your head.  ‘Not at all.  I’m glad they know.’

‘As am I.’  He cupped your cheek with his gloved palm before kissing you softly, being careful not to smudge your lipstick.  ‘Do not stray too far during the party, my love, I would like to be able to steal you away whenever I choose.’

‘You’re ridiculously romantic.’  You chuckled, running your hand down his cravat.  ‘You’re also ridiculously territorial.’

‘I think I was remarkably behaved.’

‘You were.’  You pushed up on your toes and gave him another quick kiss.  ‘Come on, we have to be ready to welcome the guests.’

‘With that as my encouragement how could I refuse?’  He gave you a rare yet warm smile, letting you go as he did so.

The party was in full swing, the last of the invited guests were now checked off and you had all gathered once more, Jumin coordinating who should speak with which guests in the few moments he was not being sought after himself by business associates.  Jaehee walked by where you stood alone, between conversations, and said; ‘Mr Han wants us to coordinate another brief meeting with the RFA, to see how things are going.  Five minutes, where we met before.’

‘Alright, Jaehee, thanks.’  You replied as she hurried over to Zen.  You headed to the bar, tucking a hair behind your ear as you went.  You were happy just to spend a few more minutes with Jumin, regardless of the reason.

‘Good, we’re all here.’  Jumin nodded.  ‘Saeyoung, could you speak with the representatives from the LFG Corp regarding their technical questions.  Yoosung, the youth organisation representative should be your next stop, give them the point of view of today’s college students.  Zen,’  Jumin gave him a raised eyebrow, ‘just continue to flirt with anything in a dress but don’t go too far.’

‘Hey!’  Zen snapped, but Jumin continued regardless.

‘MC, ensure you have spoken to everyone so they know who you are for future parties.’

‘Okay.’  You nodded.

‘And, Jaehee.’

You felt her back straighten beside you.  ‘Yes, Mr Han?’

‘Try and look a little more relaxed.’

You hid a snort of laughter as Jumin waved his hand and conversation broke out among the group.

‘I can’t believe it’s been two years since V was discharged.’  Yoosung shook his head.  ‘It’s also been two years since Rika…’

Saeyoung interrupted him, not wanting him to dwell.  ‘The last time we tracked him, he was in Alaska.  About three months ago.’

‘Why would he go there?’  Zen wrinkled his nose in a way you knew the fans went wild for.  ‘Hey, CEO-In-Line!  No recent calls from V?’

Jumin turned his full attention back to the group with a sigh.  ‘None whatsoever.  He’s apparently not planning on showing himself at this party either.’

‘Well, whether he is here or not, congratulations on a successful opening of the RFA party.’  Jaehee smiled warmly.

‘Nice work, everybody.’  Saeyoung agreed.

Jaehee adjusted her glasses.  ‘I didn’t think we’d be able to hold a party again to a success.’

Jumin entwined his fingers with yours.  ‘This party was also held in order to remind ourselves that now we have defeated the event that befell two years ago.’

‘Yes, and you performed a major role in forming this party, Mr Han.’  Jumin waved a dismissive hand but Jaehee continued.  ‘Of course, we wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for Zen, Luciel, Yoosung…all of you.’

‘And we can’t leave MC out of this.’  Yoosung added excitedly.

‘I’ve only done what I’m supposed to.’  You shook your head.

‘Being humble isn’t bad, but I think you can take more pride for a day like this.’  Jaehee was definitely one of your biggest supporters and you didn’t like to argue with her.

Zen waved a slender finger at you  ‘That’s right.  You’ve worked so hard to organise the list for the party guests.’

‘Why don’t we have a glass to celebrate?’  Jumin indicated to the approaching server.  ‘You can look forward to this champagne.’

‘Hey, let’s be honest, Jumin.’  Zen began as he took a glass.  ‘You’re an alcoholic, aren’t you?  And you keep uploading alcohol pictures on the messenger.  You also uploaded some strange wine image yesterday.’

Saeyoung laughed.  ‘I think all of the wines he uploaded could match the price for one of my babes waiting in the garage.’

Jumin just rolled his eyes before clinking his glass to yours and taking a good slug, but Zen wasn’t ready to let it go.

‘Hey…just how much are you going to chug?  You’re the CEO-In-Line!  You think it’s okay for you to drink every day?  MC, tell him!’

‘My friend and father happen to be stressing me out on a daily basis.  I’m merely de-stressing on my own terms.  But don’t you ever get tired of uploading your own face?  It’s not like there’s a major change in your looks.  I don’t understand why you would upload the same image over and over again.’  Jumin acted casually but his words held bite, and you squeezed his hand in an effort to get him to tone it down.

‘Hey, I didn’t do it for you.’  Zen spluttered.  ‘It was for the entirety of mankind!  And they’re all different, in little ways.’

‘They’re all completely different from each other.’  Jaehee argued in his defence.

‘That’s right.  Ugh…I shouldn’t lose my temper on a good day like this.’  Zen flicked his hair towards Jumin in a dismissive gesture.

Yoosung leant towards Saeyoung.  ‘I’m so glad Zen and Jumin meet only during parties.’

‘Same here.’  The hacker laughed into his glass.

Yoosung grinned, he was so happy lately it was great to see, but his smile suddenly turned to a small pout as his eyebrows shot up.  ‘Oh right!  I forgot to decorate table twenty-eight!  Seven!  Could you give me a hand?’

‘Aw, come on, this champagne’s a delicacy!  Mind if I give you a hand after I finish my glass?’

‘You can have it later, Seven!  Come and take a look at the ornament I chose!’  Yoosung pulled on his arm and Saeyoung put his glass into Jaehee’s waiting hand.

‘Hmm…I’m actually wondering which ornament you bought.  You didn’t log into the LOLOL for two days because you had to choose an ornament so it had better be good.  I’ll be the judge for you.’

‘Judge?  You?  Yeah right…anyway, follow me.’

‘I’ll catch you later.  Make sure to leave my portion of the drink.’  Saeyoung threw you all a grin.

‘I prepared several spare bottles.  So no need to worry.’  Jumin called after him.

‘Seriously?  So you really are determined to drink, CEO-In-Line?’

‘Zen, leave it.’  You asked sweetly, knowing he couldn’t resist when you did so.

‘Yoosung is very eager.’  Jaehee smiled after your youngest member left.

‘He is.  And Seven’s also enjoying himself.’  Zen finally seemed happy with a change of subject.  You were all happy with the way the RFA was heading, everything was so positive, a far cry from the state of things two years ago.

As though reading your thoughts, Jumin spoke.  ‘I hope we all can show the potential of the RFA in the future, starting with this party  Today cannot be any happier.’

‘And this is the day that I, Zen, make a grand comeback to the society!’  Zen laughed in such an attention grabbing way several heads turned.

‘Zen, there are a lot of women over there almost glaring love at you.’  Jaehee remarked, pointing subtly with her glass.

‘And I can also see a pack of hyenas, I mean reporters, clustering right nearby.’  Jumin all but groaned.

‘Talk about this popularity of mine…but no showing off.  Let me run now, but I’ll come back!’  Zen took a overdramatic bow before heading out into the crowd once more.

‘We should give him some bodyguards.’  Jaehee watched him go with a hint of worry in her eyes.

‘Let him be.  He seems to be enjoying himself.  He looks good.’  Jumin shrugged.

‘Are you serious?’  Jaehee’s eyes went wide at Jumin’s words.

‘Which reminds me, Jaehee, I got a call that my father’s arrived.’

‘He did?’  You asked as  Jumin raised your hand to his lips for a soft kiss before releasing it.

‘You mean the chairman?  I haven’t received such a call…let me double check.’

‘He called me himself before I called us all together.  I believe I should go and greet him.  I beg your pardon, MC, Could you stay here and enjoy the party for a bit?  I’ll be right back.’

‘Of course.’  You nodded, smiling warmly at the adoration in Jumin’s eyes before he left.

Jaehee rapidly put down both glasses she held on a table and pulled her tablet back from under her arm.  ‘Mr Han!  You know there’s something we must relay to him.  Allow me to accompany you. I’ll see you in a while, MC.’

You laughed as she ran off after him, taking another sip of the champagne as the crowd filled in the gaps around you.  As such, you then weren’t expecting the voice that came from behind you.

‘I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.’

You thought your heart had stopped, that your memory was playing tricks on you, and all you could reply as you turned was;  ‘Pardon?’

There before you stood the very man you had all been talking about minutes before.  V.  He had had his hair cut since you last saw him, not that that was a surprise, but he looked so grown up, the shorter cut suiting him well.  His white shirt was unbuttoned showing an enticing expanse of pale skin, with several necklaces contrasting.  His khakis and dress shoes were the only thing out of place in such a relaxed outfit, as though he would be more at home relaxing on a beach somewhere.  You knew your eyes were wide and your mouth open but you just couldn’t think of anything to say.

V took another step towards you, his smile more genuine than you had ever seen it.  ‘Congratulations, MC.’

‘V?!’  You spat, the only thing you could finally vocalise being his name.

He chuckled softly.  ‘It’s Jihyun Kim now.  Long time no see.  You look surprised, puzzled.  I actually missed that look.  Did I keep you waiting too long?’

‘Uh, we missed you.’  You stammered.

‘You couldn’t have missed me more than I missed you.  There’s not a single day I spent without missing you, MC.  I missed you so much.  So fathomlessly.  You can’t imagine.’

You swallowed hard, worrying where this was going, but still he continued.

‘I’ve booked and cancelled tons of tickets to see you.  Now I even have a scrapbook of tickets I cancelled.  MC, but you know what?  I think it’s worth the wait.’

‘I, uh…’  You seemed to have lost the ability to string more than a few words together, but V was happy to continue.

‘Have I ever told you that my hobby happens to be putting together white blank puzzles?  I’ve been putting together blank puzzles for the past two years.  And I’ve been drawing and painting them.  I deliberated what I should draw, what I should use.  It took hours for me just to think.  Though it took so long I can guarantee that those puzzles now hold my sincerity.  Do you want to know what became of my blank puzzles?’

‘Yes, I do.’  You managed.  In all the time you spent together he had never opened up to you this willingly.

He took another step towards you and took your hand, holding it between both of his.  ‘Then why not go see them together?  I’ve been lost for years, but I’ve filled them up with a variety of fun colours.  Now I finally discovered an array of colours to paint my blank puzzles.  And if you like the puzzles I coloured there’s something I’d like to offer you.’

He stepped closer still until your toes almost touched, your heart rate had sped up as you pondered where this was going.  Sure, being away he probably had a lot to share, but this seemed more personal than a travel journal.

When he spoke again his voice was low and just for you.  ‘Do you still remember…what I said in the past?  I said that I want to love again, though I wasn’t sure if I could.  That I’d like to love again once a chance arises.  I’d like to love now, so…I’d like to draw paintings more beautiful than the pictures of the sun…with you.  I want you.  I want to choose you.’

Oh shit!  You thought.

‘The paintings we draw will flourish with the colours of our own.  I’ll give you my word every time we hold the brush that we’ll draw together what you truly want, MC.  I give you my word that I’ll paint only the real you.  I, too, will fill our artworks with a man called Jihyun Kim.  We might run into a fight even at the outline part.  We’ll discover something in each other we weren’t aware of.  Regardless, I’d like to make my choice.  I’d like to choose a future not alone.  A future we paint together.  Please be yourself with me, not my canvas.  Please keep your darkness, light, everything with you.  I want to love you.  I will love you.  I love you, MC, just as I love myself.’

‘V?’  Jumin arrived behind you just as V’s hand was coming up towards your cheek, and he draped his arm around your waist as he stopped beside you.  ‘We weren’t expecting you.  What are you doing here?’

‘He’s, uh, back.’  You said as V lowered his hands away from you, his eyes flickering to Jumin’s hand on your shoulder.

‘I decided it was time.’  V’s words were less confident than they had been a moment before, his smile faltering a fraction.  ‘It’s good to see you, my friend.’

‘And you, we must celebrate.’  Jumin gave a small smile.  ‘Darling, would you excuse me while I arrange some more champagne?’

‘Of course.’  You forced a smile as Jumin kissed your cheek before leaving the two of you alone again.

‘So…’

‘You and Jumin are…’

You both spoke at the same time but V waved his hand to allow you to continue.

‘I’m so sorry, V.  Jihyun.’  You swallowed hard, your heart in your mouth as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.  ‘We didn’t now how to reach you, or when you’d be back, and…’

‘MC, it’s fine.’  He stopped you.  ‘I didn’t ask you to wait for me and it’s not fair of me to expect you to have done so.  It was selfish of me to think you wouldn’t have…but Jumin?  I’m happy for you both.’

You shifted your feet nervously.  ‘Yeah.  It’s still pretty new, for both of us.’  Your lip quivered as you looked into his aqua eyes.  ‘I really am sorry.  I didn’t mean.’

‘Shh, it’s okay.  I’m glad you have someone who makes you happy, and to think Jumin has someone as wonderful as you to love him.  But, speaking of Jumin, could you ask him to hold the champagne for another time.  I had a long flight and I really need to go get some sleep to help fight jetlag.’

‘Oh, of course.’  You said hesitantly.  ‘But don’t go on our account.’

‘It’s not you, I promise.  But you’ll come see my puzzles soon, yes?  With Jumin?’

‘I promise.’

‘Then please pass my apologies to everyone for such a brief visit, we’ll catch up soon.’

He was already backing away and you were sure you could see his heart breaking.  ‘V…’

‘Goodbye, MC.’  He smiled warmly and turned his back on you.  All you could do was watch him go.

‘Where’s V?’  Jumin returned to your side with three glasses linked through his fingers and a bottle of champagne in the other.

‘He, uh, had to go.’  You murmured, forcing down your tears once and for all.  ‘He was tired.’

‘Understandable.  We will have him come to the penthouse for dinner to catch us up on his adventures.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You let Jumin’s arm on the small of your back pull you towards him, allowing him to press a kiss to the top of your head.

‘Are you quite alright, MC?’

‘I’m fine.’  You smiled up at him.  ‘I think the reality of V being back was a bit of a shock.’

‘I certainly wasn’t expecting to see him, but him not being here shouldn’t stop us having a celebratory drink.’

‘Right, no, it shouldn’t.’  You spared one more glance at the door, V having already disappeared from view, and you allowed Jumin to distract you from your thoughts.

V stepped outside the venue, allowing the night air to cool his skin.  Of course she was with someone else, she was amazing.  Who wouldn’t want her?  And that it was Jumin?  You couldn’t even begrudge him that.  Of all the people she could have ended up with, Jumin he would gladly concede defeat to.  His friend needed love perhaps more than he did, in his opinion, and MC was just the kind of woman who would do him the world of good.  So why did it feel like his heart was breaking?  Why did tears flow unbidden as he slipped his hand into his pockets, planning to walk home and clear his head.  But, in truth, even after all his work, he wasn’t sure his head, or heart, would ever be the same again.

[bi-outta-cordonia]

Ebb and Flow

Last chapter moved kinda quickly in terms of progression and maybe there’s a miniseries lodged somewhere in all the development I’m shocked we didn’t get to see. Hopefully there’s more hiding in the later chapters. We’ll see!

Blades of Light and Shadow. Tyril Starfury x f!elf MC (if you squint, now complete with light touching!) sfw, all ages. Tags include: Tyril has secrets, that’s why his hair is so long, because it’s full of secrets, also he’s still grappling with some of that juicy early onset sexual tension with Ashala, maybe he’ll deal with it one, maybe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Salt of the air, taste of the fury on the tongue. The high winds rise as the sea roll low. Clutch the vessel starboard and let Honerva flow!”

Tyril’s ears twitch along to the melody, lifting and bending easy from years of involuntary practice. The priestess—Nia—her song is familiar to him but also completely foreign. Parents of Undermount sing the same tales to their restless and misbehaving children, not as an upbeat shanty but rather as a warning to the wise. Honerva is a goddess that demands much from the mortals that traverse her realm. Stay humble but maintain vigilance. Stay the course but do not ignore the many weaving paths that make up the sea. Honerva may grant safe passage or she may dash a ship full of innocents against craggy stones, whichever mood strikes her first. 

Nia does beautifully as her voice ebbs and the sailors whoop heartily. She offers a dainty bow and heads back to her bunk beneath deck with Threep still perched on her shoulder. 

Much like the odd whims of Honerva, the air shifts as soon as familiar magic cuts through the thin barrier around him. He often erects a small shield when he stands on his own, nothing like the ones he forces up in battle. It’s just enough to give the humes pause as they walk by him—perhaps they’ll turn away so he doesn’t have to stomach looking at them. He knows how they take to him all too well. Better to steer them clear of him before something unpleasant unfolds. 

Even so, there is no guarantee that all the walls around him will remain in tact. Ashala Venralei is impossible to miss and her magic is advanced enough that crossing into his doesn’t give her the overwhelming need to be elsewhere. She quietly folds her hands one over the other and leans against the wooden rails. 

“Honerva is not a gentle goddess yet humans have such cheerful songs about her,” she says. 

“I see,” is all he says. “I didn’t think you’d know of the stories surrounding her.”

“Did the mage miss the morning ritual I conducted prior to our departure?” she teases, head turning completely towards him. He glances at her from the corner of his eye and frowns heavily. “Perhaps I am more elf than he cares to admit—I practically begged for safe passage. Honerva changes moods as often as Mal changes the details of the stories he’s already told. We should be grateful that her temperament has not changed yet.” Her lips quirk. “And that Mal’s stories are amusing. We move amongst seasoned travelers, it seems.”

“Ah, you speak not of I, lowlander,” he corrects. “Undermount has been my home for decades until now. What stories Mal provides come from his adventures. The ones I provide belong to me yet seem to surface whenever it suddenly becomes the fancy of one extremely nosy lowlander.”

She doesn’t laugh and it irritates him in a way. Instead, he watches that sly smile of hers crack across her face, golden eyes as bright as the beaming sun. What little she conveys with her body he can read upon her face. 

Sometimes.

“You could always stop me yourself,” she says. “Two days out from port and you’ve yet to spend time with anyone aside from myself. A choice, I presume?”

Tyril doesn’t answer for a long moment. In the skies above, a flock of gulls circle and swoop down towards the sea to scoop up fish for their meals. White feathers shine wetly as they beat their wings and head back to land. He averts his gaze and stares at the distance ahead of him—nothing but miles and miles of endless sea, the horizon almost indiscernible between the place where the sky meets the water. 

“I don’t…” He stops and narrows his eyes. “All that I could say about the life I’ve grown accustomed to matters little compared to the reality I embrace now.” He stands taller but takes a shaky breath of the salty air. “Stories of the past often matter greatly depending upon the context but my stories are nothing. Just the ramblings of…”

He grows quiet, bowing his head a bit, and he dares not risk a glance towards the woman beside him. His old governess would give him a whack on the knuckles for such weakness. First and foremost are the lessons of propriety—how to maintain veneer with ease and how to trick one’s enemies into believing the face displayed for them. Of all the sickly sweet smiles and taut smirks, nothing delivers more emphatically than the look of unwavering curiosity brimming in Ashala’s eyes. 

Slowly, Tyril turns his head towards her and meets that gaze with his. She exudes smoke and ash, chokes the world around her into a violent submission for it has walked its course over her. She will walk her own path to save a man unrelated to her by blood but in between, the natural well of magic in the world will tip in her bend and the elements all around her will move aside for she refuses to be moved by them. 

“You are…” he starts, resting his chin upon his hand. Her eyes flash—a warning or amusement? He isn’t entirely sure. “A strange creature.”

Ashala shrugs. “You are blue. And tall.” She squints at him. “And horribly gruff. I expected elves from the city beneath the stone to be a lot more refined.”

“I can be if I choose so.”

“But you choose not to be in any given moment.” Her head nods towards the door leading to the bunks beneath deck. “Save for when you interact with Nia, of course. Imtura seems unbothered but Mal does everything in his power to crack the frosty exterior you put up.” 

He chuckles. “And you seem to think I exist for the sake of reciting old stories. You and Mal are no different in that sense—you are both bothersome. Only he seems to do it because nothing else in this world could possibly entertain him more.”

“You have a vein that pops up on that rather large forehead of yours when you get riled up,” she says. His fingers twitch and his jaw works. He will not rise to the bait. He is better than this. 

Better than the coy smirk that tugs at her lips when he does reach up. 

And much better than the playful glint in her eyes as he silently tucks his hair behind his ear, very much avoiding the spot on his forehead where the vein could be. 

He will not think about this later. 

“Is there something in particular you desire, lowlander?” he hisses. “Or have you come to pester me for yet another story?”

She remains silent for a long moment. Her golden eyes sweep back over the water and take in the sight of clear skies all the way in the distance. Her body closes off, turns away to face completely forward. There is a blankness about her face and his brow furrows. 

“We all carry secrets, Tyril,” she says quietly. Ashala’s head remains high despite the strange air settling between them. Before the words leave her mouth, he knows the question sitting on her tongue. “Undermount is your home, yet the minute you called out the next destination, there seemed…there was a hesitation on your part.”

His lips press together. “I see.”

“Your skill is unparalleled. Of the five of us, it is clear your training as House Starfuy’s heir—” His jaw works, “—has granted you the boon of power beyond imagining. Knowledge, tactics—there is much to speak of regarding you but we respect your need to hold such truths to your being. Perhaps there is something we are unaware of that is too painful for you to recall—something that would leave you vulnerable.”

He sighs and lays his arm flat against the railing. 

“No, it…” 

Memories flood the empty space within his mind. Meditation keeps it clear but there are nights where he is restless, tossing and turning as events of the past play out in the form of nightmares most unimaginable. Where there is wisdom there is pride most evil, most corrupting of those that cross its path. His mother—her face is there but hazy. Fanciful feasts, the boisterous laughter of men and women dressed in the finest of silks as servants present delicacies from far and wide—

There was a man whose lips he can still taste—

The woman with straw blonde hair that smiled so beautifully—

House rankings, climbing the rungs of hollowed out ladders that snap so easily but mend just as well if only he would think.

Climb faster.

Push harder. 

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs again. 

“It’s…far too complicated to explain at the moment,” he finally answers. Weight presses on his shoulders and a knot forms in his belly. He remembers a sensation like this back then, only it was much more constant. “In some ways, I envy the life you’ve led.”

Ashala offers nothing at first, her eyes never straying from the horizon slowly moving in the distance. “You’ve been surrounded by luxuries most of your life. Your knowledge of our—of your culture is far more extensive. I cannot fathom the idea of envying one born to nothing.”

“I...I was not lacking for anything, no. You assume correctly in a sense. Even the happiness was constant for a time.” Quiet again. At the very least, she does not push. “Everything moved towards a single goal and that was the most exhilarating aspect. To be able to provide for the house meant just as much as being a part of it. Climbing the ranks was a ruthless game but standing atop the other children brought glory beyond compare.”

“You were heir,” Ashala says. 

A rueful smile tugs at his lips. “Everything I could ever want at my very fingertips—and now? Now, I travel the world committed to a mission that the others of our kind would rather blatantly ignore.” His head shakes. “What good does it do to only partially stop an evil that would destroy us all? Why stop at splitting the shards and why not completely cleanse the world of the Court’s influence?”

Ashala hums but does not respond immediately. Her head turns and she observes him quietly. 

“Then it was pure altruism that saw you abandon such a lucrative role?” His eyes dart away and he knows the exact number of whacks on the knuckles the gesture would earn him. 

“I’ve been away from Undermount for a long while,” he says. “It’s been months at best yet I know the exact number of whacks I’d get for being so loose with my feelings.”

“Oh? How rare to see such a sight,” she says, hand raising to point at the corners of his mouth twitching. Tyril jerks his head away and snorts, drawing a small laugh from her. “A rare yet delightful thing to see. Perhaps I was mistaken about your ability to express any emotion aside from disinterest and disgust.”

“You could stand to repress some of yours more often,” he fires back. “Humes are widely regarded as loud creatures—you are an elf. Some stoicism would make you tolerable at the very least.”

Her laugh is a full-hearted cackle. None of the heat nor venom of his words take for she finds any slight instance of his annoyance enjoyable. Heat floods his cheeks and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips as she howls with laughter. 

“To have an elf accuse me of not being stoic enough!” she wheezes, wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Would you believe that humans find me to be the most unapproachable creature that walks this land? The children would often run from the pull of my magic lest it would swallow them whole. I suppose those in possession of magic naturally terrify the folk who have so little experience with it.”

He nods. “Much of yours was self-taught, however. Being able to conceal it is one of the first lessons a proper instructor should’ve taught you, but…” He coughs. “I suppose I could…show you. It would be a useful skill when we face certain enemies.”

She quirks a brow. “Now you instructing me? Perhaps it is a moment I eagerly await if only to see the bitter disdain on your face when you realize how difficult it is to teach me!” His eyes roll but she ignores it. “You still didn’t answer my question, Tyril.”

“It was…” He pauses for a long moment. “It was mostly for that reason, yes. But in truth, it is like you mentioned before. There are some secrets I would still prefer to ‘hold to my chest,’ as you say. It isn’t…it isn’t the most pleasant thing to recall, not now. I…”

Again in an instant—

The faces of hundreds who looked upon him with hope—

That looked broken and angry when he turned his back on them—

There is no shame in doing what needs to be done—for doing the right thing. Pride is not the only source of his sense of self. It makes up only a small portion of all of him but the thought still eats at him—the question of what could’ve been always lingers no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that it isn’t important to know the answer. 

Tyril crosses his arms and gently smooths his fingertips over his bracers. His head bows and he stares at the water violently lapping at the hull as Imtura’s ship cuts through the sea. 

“You don’t regret this,” Ashala says, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“No, not at all.”

“But there are things you wonder about. Things that you cannot change or reverse as a result of your actions…”

He stands still for a moment before nodding once. “All that I do here matters more to me than the circumstances that put me on this path. I chose it, yes. There are factors that led me here, that is also true.”

She stares at him for a long while, that piercing gaze stirring something a bit unsettling within him. It’s like looking into the base of a flame all consuming, a void all encompassing. Ashala Venralei—would he ever tell her the truth about her name and all the reasons why no person in Undermount would ever consider stringing such words together to form a child’s name? He knows what Tyril is—Orthonus, Livienna, Myhri, and Rashki.

“The child born from ash and dreams”—to get to where they needed to go, Ashala’s parents burned a considerable bridge that meant that home would never be a place they could return. 

“We will stop the Shadow Court,” she says and she does something dangerous—far too dangerous—

She reaches across and lays a warm hand on top of his. He swallows and stares into her eyes once more, something far more uncomfortable welling in the pit of his belly. It’s a warmth and a storm in one that starts in his gut before it shoots through the rest of him in uneasy webs. 

He wills himself to nod curtly. When she graces him with a warm and genuine smile, he quivers. 

It must be luck she turns on her heel and leaves him before she notices. 

[walkerismychoice]

Stripped Bare - Chapter 16 (Bryce X MC AU)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Charlie Hawkins)

Summary: It’s the day of the wedding rehearsal, and Charlie introduces Bryce to another one of her family members. Also, there may be trouble in paradise for Katelyn and Landry.

Note: Just in case the relationship between Kyra isn’t clear, they are not related by blood or technically even by marriage. They are both related to Katelyn as her cousin, but they are from opposite sides of the family. Charlie only knows Kyra from when she would invite them both over as kids. This distinction will be necessary this chapter, lol.

Also another thing which I have failed to mention enough is that most of the locations and things in this series are real parts of this resort. There are mentions of a bar, specific bartender, and cocktail, all of which really exist at Half Moon resort.

Lastly, I appreciate all the feedback I got on where to take this series. I was able to merge several ideas with things I already had in mind, so there’s no specific credit to be given, but you may see bits and pieces of what you personally suggested from here on out. Thank you all again for your help.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2850

Friday

"There's something different about you...." Kyra narrows her eyes and scans Charlie discerningly. "Is it new makeup? You're all glowy or something."

"No, I don’t think so." Charlie laughs nervously. Kyra knows, or if she doesn't she's about to figure it out. Not that Charlie would keep it from her, but she doesn't want to discuss it here, seated amongst the wedding party at the beachside set-up, waiting for the officiant to arrive to start the rehearsal.

"Oh my god! You and Bryce fu-"

"Kyra!" Charlie covers Kyra's mouth with her hand. "This is not the time nor the place."

Kyra smirks satisfactorily. "You didn't deny it. I expect full details later. And I mean everything."

Charlie rolls her eyes but can't hold back a smirk. "Okay, just keep it down for now."

Kyra glances off to the side where Bryce is waiting and winks at him. Bryce shoots a confused look to Charlie and she just shrugs and throws her hands up. As expected, Kyra is having difficulty with the concept of discretion.

The rehearsal is uneventful, but there seems to be extra tension between between Katelyn and Landry. Not that they’re a super affectionate couple to begin with, but the air is especially icy between them. Maybe it’s just stress and pre-wedding jitters, but whatever the case, seeing those two together makes Charlie even more thankful she’s not still with Andrew.

Bryce approaches Charlie as they are dismissed to head to the rehearsal dinner and loops his arm around her waist. “You walked down that aisle like a pro. You’re going to nail your performance tomorrow.”

Charlie giggles. “Well this is me we’re talking about. No guarantees I won’t fall flat on my face.

Bryce nods. “This is true. I’ll have to make sure you keep your alcohol consumption to a minimum tomorrow.

“But not tonight. I have to deal with my parents again. Oh, and did I mention my brother should be there too? His flight was supposed to get in this afternoon.”

“No you did not. Is he as hard to impress as your parents?”

“Nah,” Charlie shakes her head. “He never liked Andrew, but I have a feeling he’ll like you.”

“Sounds like a good judge of character then, so obviously he’ll love me.” Bryce smirks. 

“Hurry it up you two!” Kyra calls over her shoulder. “Cocktail hour starts now, and I don’t want to drink alone.”

~~~

“Guess who!” A pair of large hands cover Charlie’s eyes as she stands at the bar, but she’d know that voice anywhere.

“Will!” She spins around on her tiptoes and throws her arms around her much taller brother. "I’ve missed you!”

He squeezes her back tight. “You too, Chuck.”

“Okay, I don’t miss you anymore. You can get right back on that plane and go back to Africa.”

“Chuck?” Bryce questions with an amused expression on his face. “I haven’t heard that one yet.

“Just a nickname Will calls me to annoy the shit out of me. If you haven’t guessed, Bryce, this is my brother Will. Will this is my boyfriend, Bryce.” The word feels strange and uncertain coming off her tongue now that this thing between them is officially real, but she’s instantly reassured when she sees Bryce smile brighter when he hears it.

“Nice to meet you, Will.” Bryce extends his hand to will, but Will pulls him in for a hug and claps him on the back.

“Same to you. Charlie, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping him a secret from me.” Will puts a hand up to his lips as a shield. “He’s hot!” he mouths inaudibly to Charlie. 

“You know I could see that.” Bryce chuckles.

“Yeah, please don’t feed his ego. It’s already big enough,” Charlie teases and the guys both laugh. ”Anyway you’ve been so busy with your Peace Corps stuff, I haven’t really had a chance to talk to you lately,” Charlie offers as an excuse without having to reveal that Bryce didn’t exist in her life before two weeks ago.

“Fair enough. I’ll catch up with you two later, but I should go say hi to mom and dad. You wanna come with?”

“No.” Charlie shakes her head emphatically. “I’ve had enough of them already, mom especially.”

Will frowns sympathetically. “I’m sure as soon as mom sees her favorite baby boy and dad starts hounding me about deadlines for applying to grad school, they’ll forget whatever they were on you about.”

“Good luck with that.” Charlie waves him along with a tight-lipped grin.

“Oh my god!” Kyra walks up beside Charlie. “I haven’t seen Will since we were kids. When did get get so grown up...and hot.”

“Kyra!” Charlie smacks her in the shoulder. “That’s my little brother!”

“Well he’s not my brother. And in case you forgot, we aren’t related, and he’s not a kid anymore.”

“Hey, I don’t blame her.” Bryce joins in. “Good looks run in the Hawkins family. He’s got your gorgeous green eyes, and that stubble and ‘too busy doing humanitarian work to get my hair cut’ look is really working for him.”

“Ugh, now you are drooling over him too? Whose side are you on?”

“Aww, you know I’m on your side, babe.” Bryce pulls Charlie close, taking her breath away with a heated kiss. “You’re the only Hawkins I want.”

Kyra clears her throat. “You guys are disgusting...in the best possible way, of course.  

“Sorry,” Charlie steps away from Bryce sheepishly. “We should probably get to our table now. Looks like they are starting to serve dinner."

Charlie reluctantly sits with her family, but sticks to pleasantries with her parents. Kyra rounds out the 6 person table, providing a much needed buffer. Charlie's not sure if her mom is just pretending the whole thing never happened, like she so often does, or if she's just waiting to get into it again when nobody else is around, but she'll take the peace for now. It's not really awkward anyway with all the stories Will has to tell. Unsurprisingly Kyra is hanging on his every word, but he doesn't seem to mind the attention.

A short while after dinner is served Kyra nudges Charlie in the side and nods toward the corner. “Check that out.”

Charlie tries to turn her head inconspicuously and spots Katelyn and Landry seemingly in the middle of an argument. And then, without any notice or goodbyes, they leave the restaurant. “Well that doesn’t look good,” she mumbles under her breath.

Noticing the commotion, the tall Sarah stands up to cover for the couple. “The Bride and Groom wanted me to tell everyone they are retiring early for the evening so they can be well rested for tomorrow.” Landry and Katelyn’s parents all look confused but shrug it off and go back to eating their meals.

“Well,I think the party’s over here. Is there a good bar or somewhere we can go to hang out?” Will asks.

“How about Cedar Bar?” Bryce suggests. “I think Caswell is on tonight, and he’s the best.”

Will Chuckles. “I suppose I’d be familiar with all the bartenders here too if I had to put up with Katelyn for a whole week.”

Charlie laughs. “Bryce is just like that. He's made friends with just about all the staff here. It's unbelievable really."

"It's not fault people can't resist my charming, magnetic personality. It's just how I am." He winks at Charlie.

Charlie rolls her eyes but can't hold back a smirk. "Well then lets go and you can work your magic to get us some free drinks."

~~~

The night is warm and there’s a gentle breeze coming off the water into the open air bar. It’s busy, but not too crowded or loud to engage in conversation. The group finds an open table for four and Bryce goes up to the bar to do his thing. He shakes Caswell’s hand and returns to the table with a triumphant look on his face. “Four Yellowbird cocktails, coming up.”

“Uh, what’s in those?” Kyra asks skeptically.

Bryce shrugs. "When someone offers you their signature cocktail for free, you don't ask."

Moments later a cocktail waitress brings over four hurricane glasses filled with yellow-orange liquid and a colorful fruit garnish. Charlie takes a sip and is met with an interesting mix of flavors but it somehow works. "Not bad. Definitely rum, orange juice, bananas and.... something else. I feel like this is one of those dangerous drinks that could get you drunk real fast."

Kyra takes a big swig of her drink. "I'll be glad to test that theory out."

Will leans over to whisper something in Kyra's ear, a blush creeping over her cheeks before she pushes her drink off to the side. Charlie’s still not quite sure how to feel about whatever is going on between the two of them, but Will’s an adult and she trusts Kyra, so she’s just not going to interfere.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were dating someone new.” Will shakes his head at Charlie. “How did you two meet?”

This part is still tricky, they’ve practiced the story but it’s really hard to look Will in the eyes and lie. “Well we were both medical students,” she offers, which is technically true.

“But didn’t you say you went to Harvard, Bryce?”

“I did, but there is some overlap in the faculty and hospital appointments between Harvard and Boston University so sometimes the students end up in the same place.”

Charlie breathes a sigh of relief at Bryce’s quick-thinking answer, and Will seems satisfied. Bryce places on hand on Charlie’s knee under the table, idly rubbing soothing circles over her skin. He continues with these little touches here in there, but unlike before, these aren’t for anyone else to see. 

They finish their cocktails and order another round of less extravagant drinks while catching up. Unsurprisingly, Bryce and Will get along like old friends, and Will only embarrasses Charlie a little. With what Bryce has seen of her already, she’s not worried anything Will says will scare him away.

“Hey guys, mind if I crash your party?” A stunned silence falls over the table as a bleary eyed Katelyn stands before them.

“Um, not at all,” Charlie replies as Bryce pulls up an extra chair to the end of the table. 

“No offense, Katelyn, but you kind of look like shit,” Will adds. “Shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep for the wedding?”

She rolls her eyes at the same time she wipes the mascara smudges with the back of her hand. “Who knows if there will even be a wedding.”

“What?” Charlie and Kyra both gasp. Although Charlie can think of a multitude of reasons why Katelyn and Landry aren’t right for each other, she couldn’t imagine Katelyn calling off the wedding at this point.

“Landry is just as much of a douchebag as you all thought. Even if you never said it, I could tell you all were thinking it.”

“What happened?” Charlie asks out of genuine concern. As much as she can’t stand the person who Katelyn has become, she’s still family and Charlie still cares. 

“Fucking Tanner showed up.” Katelyn pulls out her phone and shows them some screenshots of intimate conversations between Landry and his friend from college within the last few months. “He said they were just joking, but I’m not that naive. I forgave him so long as he cut off communication, and I thought he did. Then Tanner showed up today, and our arguing escalated until we went back to the room. I demanded to see his phone and found a thread of messages hidden under another name. He claimed Tanner’s only here because the invitations went out before I found everything out. He says he still loves me and begged me to go through with the wedding, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Screw him,” Kyra scoffs. “You can do so much better.”

Katelyn might be awful to put up with, but Kyra’s right. Landry’s still not good enough for her, but Charlie’s not sure that’s what Katelyn wants to hear right now. “What Kyra means is that you deserve someone you love and loves you just as much in return.”

Bryce stands up. “Maybe we should let you ladies have some time to talk this through. Will, come get a drink at the bar with me?”

The men leave and Katelyn picks up Wills half-full cocktail and downs it. “I don’t know what to do... Are you going to finish that?” She points to Charlie’s drink, and Charlie slides it over to her.

“What does your gut say you should do? You don’t have to feel obligated to marry him just because we are all here for the wedding.”

Kyra takes another sip of her drink. “Yes, what she said.”

“I don’t even know if I love him. I love what he is on paper. He can give me the life I’ve always wanted, and if I don’t have him, I’m left with nothing.”

“Psshht.” Kyra shakes her head. “Girl, you know you are way out of his league.”

“Who is this Katelyn and what did she do with my independent, intelligent, ambitious cousin? The Katelyn I grew up with wouldn’t need a man for anything,” Charlie echoes the sentiment. 

“But I’ve given up going to law school to be a wife. It’s all I have now.”

“Katelyn, you’re only twenty-six, and in case you forgot, still independently wealthy. You have the time and money to do anything you want. If you want to marry Landry because it makes you happy, do that, but not because you think it is what you are supposed to do.” 

“Trust me,” Kyra interjects. “You’ll look like much less of a loser if you call off the wedding than if you actually marry that pasty-ass white boy.”

“Kyra!” Charlie shoots her a glare. Sure they’ve all been thinking it but it’s a bit harsh to say out loud.

“Kyra’s right. I should have dumped the cheating, spineless, scrawny-ass bastard a long time ago.”

Charlie leans over to hug Katelyn, stifling a laugh. “We aren’t trying to tell you what you do, but we’ll support whatever decision is best for you. Right, Kyra?” Charlie arches her eyebrows at Kyra as a warning to keep her mouth filtered for Katelyn’s sake.

“Yep.” She gets up to give Katelyn said after Charlie retreats. 

“Good.” Katelyn dabs her tears away with a cocktail napkin. “Now I need all the drinks.” She reaches for another drink, but Charlie stops her.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Yes.” Katelyn pushes away from the table and walks up to bar, ordering two shots and downing them immediately. Will and Bryce bring her back to the table, already another drink in hand.

Bryce leans in to whisper to Charlie. “We should probably try to keep her from over-doing it.”

“It might be a little late for that, but we’ll watch her.”

The night wears on and the group sneakily orders a couple more non-alcoholic beverages for Katelyn, but she’s already had quite enough. It’s getting late and Kyra and Will bow out first, Will volunteering to “walk Kyra back to her room” as if that isn’t obvious. Charlie finally convinces Katelyn to go back to Landry and face whatever is going to happen.

“I’m just going to use the restroom before we go. Do you need to go, Katelyn?”

“No, I’m good.” Katelyn stumbles back against the wall.

“I’ll wait out here with her,” Bryce offers. 

“Good call.” Charlie laughs and pushes through the women’s room door.

~~~

Katelyn is a fucking mess. Bryce has no idea how she and Charlie can be related. She’s good looking enough, but nowhere near as pretty as Charlie. But her personality...yikes. Charlie says Katelyn wasn’t always this way, and he’s grateful Charlie has managed to grow into the person she is despite a similar upbringing.

“Charlie’s so lucky to have you.” Katelyn slurs, stumbling forward and crashing into Bryce’s chest. He tips her back upright, but her hands remain planted on his pecs, giving them a squeeze. “You know how bad I’ve been wanting to feel these? I know you’re always showing off your muscles because you want everyone to look, and I’ve definitely been looking.”

Bryce removes Katelyn’s hands, placing them at her sides. Sure he’s proud of his body and likes to show it off, but he’s certainly not looking for this type of attention. ”That doesn’t mean everyone gets to touch me. That’s reserved for Charlie.” 

Katelyn pouts.”But is she as good of kisser as me?” 

Bryce should have been anticipating it from her question, but before he can make sense of what’s happening, Katelyn arms around around his neck and her lips are his. Initially shocked and frozen in place, he finally comes around, but it’s already too late.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Landry booms, his face red with anger, and next to him is a bewildered looking Charlie.

[theartoflovingthomashunt]

Back to the Start (Thomas’s Journal)

*This is technically Faux Pas Part Seven, but it’s more of a standalone story

Part One: Long Distance Part Five

Part Two: (Not so) Long Distance

Part Three: Emphatically, No

Part Four: L.A. Baby (Where Dreams are Made of to be broken)

Part Five: (I’m Sorry I Can’t Be) Perfect

Part Six: I’d Do Anything

* * * The Art of Loving Thomas Hunt Fan Fiction Masterlist * * *

– – –

Characters: Alex (MC), Thomas Hunt Mentioned Characters: Marianne Delacroix, Bianca Stone, Matt Rodriguez, Chris Winters

Setting: This takes place between Red Carpet Diaries Book 2 and 3 (Red Carpet Diaries 2.5).  However, the majority of the content recaps RCD Books 1 and 2 from Thomas POV. In my fanfiction writing, this takes place immediately after Faux Pas Part 6. Previously, Bianca Stone shared part of Thomas’s private journal about his feelings about Marianne Delacroix. Thomas also agreed to model for Faux Pas with Alex for Addison’s photoshoot despite not initially wanting to.

Rating: PG-13

– – –

Thomas sat down beside Alex on the couch, wrapping his arm around her. Alex let him pull her into his chest.

“Thank you again,” Alex lifted her head to place a kiss on his lips.

“It was my pleasure,” Thomas kissed her again.

“Can we put all of this behind us?” Alex suggested.

“Agreed. However, before we do...” Thomas began hesitantly. He took a deep breath. “Since Miss Stone was kind enough to share what I had written about Marianne, I thought perhaps you might want to see what I’ve written about you.”

Thomas held out a black journal. It had several pages flagged.

“Thomas, you don’t have to,” Alex offered.

“I want to,” Thomas insisted, putting the journal in Alex’s hands.

Alex leaned into Thomas’s arms and opened to the first flagged page.

[Hello, Hollywood]

Today, I went to another insipid Hollywood party. The meaningless blather of conversations at these affairs is irritating. Finding someone to have an actual conversation with proved impossible. Perhaps the most interesting thing of note was a party crasher. I commend her risk to network–she seemed to handle herself with unexpected grace. Unfortunately for her, this town is filled with other naive, beautiful Hollywood hopefuls.

[The Big Premiere]

Rarely am I stirred by current Hollywood indie films, tonight I witnessed a rare break in the drivel of underwhelming attempts at true art. Tender Nothings was not terrible. That is to say, it was quite good. The film owes its success to a newcomer, Alex Spencer. I was pleasantly surprised by not only her raw talent but her charm and decorum. I had the privilege of speaking with her at Matt Rodriguez’s party. Alex has mastered the Hollywood charm offensive, even if she insists she is just being honest. I hope to work with her in the future. I find her talent magnetizing. I’m drawn to her and I’m not sure why that is. She’s like a lightning bolt–she’s completely compelling.

[Leveling Up]

I do not believe in fate, and yet, it seems Alex and I continue to cross paths when I least expect it. A potential client failed to show up despite insisting we meet at this abhorrent excuse for a public venue. Forget the music, they used bagged ice; how artless? As I thought the night was a total loss, I found Alex in the cacophony of sounds and lights. She continues to bewilder me. She willingly left her friends and the party at hand to accompany me to Noir Bar. Alex talks with maturity and dignity beyond her years; and yet, she has a way of–how do I put it–teasing me in a manner to which I am not accustomed. I offered Alex the part of the Duchess; unfortunately, she is attached to another film. This, of course, is disappointing; however, that is not to say the evening was disappointing. I quite enjoyed myself.

[Fired-storm + Take Two]

The Last Duchess has been stuck in a state of uncertainty for a few weeks now. I have not found anyone who could portray Frances with all the nuances the performance requires. It is with conflicting emotions that I finally have my Duchess. I somehow found my way to Alex again. I was pleased by her enthusiasm and interest in the role, although I abhor the reason for which she was let go from her prior engagement. Even sitting across from here, I felt fire run through my veins as she told me what Viktor tried to do to her. I knew he was vile, but this was different. I had never felt so much hatred before; even with everything that happened between Viktor and me.

As I sat with Alex and saw the light of passion in her eyes, I knew it was fate. I finally realized why I couldn’t cast the Duchess. It was always Alex. She is everything I admire in Frances. I know she will bring undeniable life to the role. Nevertheless, Alex is also dangerous. I’m drawn to her in a way I haven’t been in a long time. I almost kissed her. I wanted to. But after Viktor, I can’t. I will protect her, even if that means from myself.

I gave Alex a day to think about my offer before returning for her reply. I did need her answer readily, but the truth is, I couldn’t stay away from her.

[The Underdogs]

Today was the first day of production for The Last Duchess. I wanted to film a few test scenes to provide potential producers and investors in hopes of securing funding. Alex and Chris were impeccable even on their first attempt. I hope the investor we are meeting with tomorrow sees the potential of this film.

As the title character of the film, it was natural to ask Alex to accompany me on the trip to San Franciso. I expected that eventually, I would discover something about Alex that would help quell the distraction she has become to me. The trip had an adverse effect. Alex continues to demonstrate she is a capable woman in all regards. I took her to a few of my favorite places. She genuinely appreciated them all. When I showed her all of San Francisco from Twin Peaks, she asked where I lived. Maybe it was the memories that filled my head when she asked about my former house, but I was pulled toward her. I didn’t want to stop. The way she looked in the moonlight. She was exquisite. Her hand on my jaw was electric. I could feel it radiate through my whole body. It was just the shock I needed to remind me of everything I could lose if I had let myself continue.

[I'll Take The High Road]

Production of the Last Duchess headed to Cordonia. Alex continued to overwhelm my thoughts. I offered her an extra seat on the plane. If she had brought someone else, then I could let the thought of her go. I want her to be happy, even if that is with someone else. Regardless, she declined. I smiled when she turned down the offer.

On the set Chris–for all his talents–had difficulty today exuding the right mix of restrained desire and infinite decorum the scene required. I offered to demonstrate what I was looking for. I have done this countless times on prior films, and yet, this time it was different. I ran the scene with Alex– the anticipation and intensity were palpable. I am hopelessly at her mercy.

[Happily Ever After...Right?]

The Last Duchess was complete and yet, I felt compelled to head to the studio to attempt to make it even better. As if I were not distracted enough by the mere thought of Alex, fate decided yet again to test my resolve in acting on my desires for her. Alex drives me to distraction. She challenges me. I confessed my desire for her. Remarkably, she felt the same way. When we kissed, I felt contended. My thoughts were quiet for the first time in months. I relinquished my future to her, should she feel the same way as I.

The wrap party for The Last Duchess was an overwhelming success. The film received much praise and yet for the first time, the acclaim was distant. As to be expected by now, Alex captured my whole attention. She chose me. I might never understand why, but I will never stop trying to make her happy.

Apparently, Alex is a distraction I’m supposed to have. I can’t fight it anymore. I won’t.

As Alex continued flipping through the other entries, tears cascaded down her cheeks and flowed across her smile. She had not thought it possible to be more in love with Thomas than she already was, but she was wrong.

“I can’t believe...” Alex’s words got caught in her throat. She shifted until her lips were hovering over Thomas’s. “I love you, Thomas Hunt, more than I have ever loved anyone.”

“As do I, my Alex,” Thomas admitted.

Alex pressed her lips against Thomas’s. Alex kissed him long and slow. Thomas responded by pulling Alex further on top of him until she was straddling his lap. He ran his hands down her back and lower, eventually settling his hands in the back pocket of her pants. Alex smiled against his lips as Thomas squeezed her. His touch caused her body to quiver pleasantly in response.

Alex pulled away for a moment to catch her breath. “I noticed you did not include any specific details about the wrap party. Perhaps you need a refresher of the highlights from the evening?”

Thomas cupped his hands around Alex’s face. “How did that scene go again?" he teased.

Alex traced a finger up his arm. Her touch still sent shivers through his body; she smiled lightly. "I believe it started with desire," Alex whispered as she pressed her lips to his.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. Alex wrapped her legs around him. They passionately kissed their way over to a table in the corner. It wasn't a desk, but it would do. Thomas and Alex kissed fiercely as they let their memories of that first night overcome them.

----

Thomas Tags: (Let me know if you would like to be included :))

@hopelessromantic1352; @alleksa16   ;  @mfackenthal ;  @alj4890  ;  @the-soot-sprite  ; @twin-skltns  ; @pb-boeboe  ; @lilyofchoices  ; @flyawayboo

[angstymarshmallow]

friends with benefits (bryce x mc)

[A little note: I’ve been writing all day on and off and managed to finish this. Surprisingly it took a turn I wasn’t entirely expecting but I’m happy with it so here it goes!]

[Words counted: 2258]

The colour at the bottom of Maci’s shot glass was starting to look a little bit strange. It was supposed to be a startling sea-green and now seemed a little…greener than it should. The longer she stared at it, the worse it was beginning to look. She blinked at it for a moment, her lips forming into a faint scowl until she heard him.

“No need to rush a good thing Maci.” His voice, ever the sound of something she could only describe as undeniably smooth floated across the table. “The night is still young.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his smirk. She didn’t think she could ever get tired of looking at him – smirk and all. He was decisively too distracting, especially without the scrubs. He knew how good he looked. Still, it was the way his smile lit the rest of his face when she’d challenge him at a drinking contest.

There was something softer behind it this time.

And it was doing crazy things to her heart. Not that she would ever voice that opinion out-loud; their game only worked when they were both playing. Maci had no intention of adding real feelings to the mix simply because it wasn’t a part of her ten-year plan.

Bryce was always a good time and balanced out her edges – especially when she had multiple ten-hour shifts almost back to back. It was probably the way he grinned. Despite when it wasn’t always directed at her, it was still the pinnacle of his self-confidence.

It was just her luck that she was in a mood to do far more than drinking tonight. 

Pushing the idea aside before it could fester, Maci tilted her head slightly and tsked at him. “Worried about me?”

He snorted, even his snort was sexy. 

“Worried that this’ll be over too soon, sure.” Dark magnetic eyes met hers’, followed by a teasing grin. “I like taking my time, Maci – you know that.” He drawled, “getting a chance to really wring out every bit of pleasure – especially for things like this,” his eyes momentarily skimmed the rest of her, and spent nearly a second too long at the gracious amount of cleavage from her dress. “Or did you forget who won our last wager?”

Maci pointed a finger at him. She hated being reminded of her failures, they were usually far and in-between. “Being a scalpel jockey gave you an unfair advantage at darts.” She said accusingly.

He chuckled and her eyes momentarily dropped to his lips.

She had been thinking about them much too frequently – almost too much when she had almsot forgotten to pick up a patience’s report earlier this week.

Maybe I need to simply get him out of my system.

The thought wasn’t surprising, but the need she felt behind the words were. Distractions were distractions but craving someone was a dangerous thing.

Yet, hadn’t she asked him if he was free tonight? On her first night to herself, his face had popped into her head. “Besides, I didn’t hear any complaints when you got your reward.” she tapped the edge of her glass with one finger, remembering his dramatic dip before he kissed her.

There had been other moments too – stolen ones in a supply closet and sneaking off together during their breaks for a heavy make-out session until they were both breathless and left panting, but their first kiss had started it all. It was the reason she constantly wanted more.

“What’s there to complain about?” He shrugged, grinning coyly at her. “You’re pretty damn kissable.”

Smooth. He was too smooth. Maybe that was why she couldn’t get him out of her head.

Bryce was leaning towards her as he spoke. It wasn’t until he was close enough for her to catch the nearly intoxicating scent of his cologne that his eyes paused intently at her. “And I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.” There was a husky edge to his voice as it dropped an octave.

“You mean with these lips?” She pointed at them, and fluttered her eyelashes in a not-so-innocent gesture. From underneath the table, her feet slid upwards until they reached his thigh.

He sat a little straighter, but otherwise appeared unaffected. “One in the same yes,” he replied, his hand finding hers’. He leaned further towards her, separating the inches left between them at the same moment she did, until they were barely more than a breath away from each other.

Maci couldn’t look away. His eyes demanded her not to. She watched as they turned a shade darker until something inside her chest fluttered. Frowning slightly, she managed to tear her gaze away and focused her attention back to her glass. “Then it’s a damn shame you’re not gonna win this time.” She taunted. Leaning back until her back pressed against the softness of her seat, she downed the rest of her drink in one go.

Bryce whistled.

Maci caught one of the server’s attention with a flirty smile and ordered another round of shots. 

“A woman that wants to drink me under the table is a woman after my own heart.” Though his voice still held a teasing edge, his eyes hadn’t broken eye contact while she offered him another drink.

“Flattery will get you everywhere Lahela.”

“God, I hope so.” His hands held on a little longer before he accepted with a small word of thanks.

She hid her smile before tipping her head back. This time it went down almost too easy.

“Wow, I think I felt that one.” Dropping his empty glass on the table, Bryce wiped an imaginary sweat off his brow until Maci sputtered a laugh. “I think I love that sound.” He mused.

Taken off-guard by his words, Maci ignored the sudden heat rising to her cheeks. “I see what you’re doing here.”

“Oh?” Now it was his turn to look innocent. “And what pray tell am I doing?”

“Stop trying to thwart me, it won’t work.” She warned stubbornly, lifting a perfectly arched brow.

“Can’t a guy tell you how sexy your laugh is?” He held up his hands in surrender as her mouth slid open to protest. “It’s just a simple observation.”

His cheeky grin had her stomach doing summersaults. She scoffed, “a simple observation to throw me off my game. I’m on to you.” She reached for another shot almost at the same time he did. Their fingers touched and Maci shivered at the electricity that seemed to jump between them.

A hesitant beat later and neither one of them had retrieved their hands. “If you’re on to me, we would have left this place already.”

She sucked in her next breath and saw the flash of satisfaction in his eyes that his words had gotten such a response from her. Swallowing past the abrupt dryness in her throat, Maci waited for her composure to return before she managed a taunting smile. “Does that mean you concede?”

He dropped his hand first and but kept his body angled towards her. “I would if that means getting out of here, yes.”

She licked her lips and saw the swift motion of his eyes following the gesture. Desire coiled in her belly and she had a difficult time keeping her expression calm and collected, when she was feeling anything except that. “Let’s say for argument’s sake I agreed - where would we go this late?”

His eyes shifted with growing interest. “You haven’t shown me your new place yet.”

“True,” she agreed with a laugh. “But I also happen to have four roommates. It’s not exactly private.” Even at this hour of the night, someone would be up watching Netflix and she was nowhere near ready for that explanation. Especially since it was all supposed to be casual. Meaningless. Besides, having him in her space wasn’t a step she thought she was ready for.

Bryce seemed to have understood without any further explanation. “My place it is.” Standing, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. Placing his hand on her lower back, he steered her to the front – only pausing with the intention of paying for their drinks.

“Oh no you don’t Lahela.” Maci physically stepped in his way, stopping him. Reaching blindly for her purse, she only glanced up to ensure he wasn’t paying behind her back. “We pay separately.”

“I don’t see the big deal.” He laughed, his voice sounding half-amused as she shoved a bunch of cash into the server’s hands. “Unless it’s about the principle, then I get it – you’re your own woman. I wouldn’t want to overstep.”

“That isn’t why. But I appreciate the sentiment,” she gestured between them as Bryce moved to grab their coats. “This was not a date.” She muttered a-matter-of-factly.

“Really?” His smirk was back and the sight of it was suddenly infuriating.

As if he knew something that she didn’t.

“Really.” Maci insisted as took her coat from him, pushing his hand away when he tried to help her with it. “Dates are pre-conceived notions involving people who actually want more than friendship.” She continued, because once she started rambling – it was difficult to put a stop to it when liquor was added into the mix.

“Then what are we?” She wasn’t unaccustomed to his teasing but beneath it she thought she saw something more. Something real. “Friends with benefits?”

She nodded emphatically. She didn’t particularly like his choice of words but nothing else could describe as aptly put of their current circumstances than those three little words. “Precisely,” she patted his arm, if not a bit awkwardly as he hailed a cab.

Bryce made no comment.

-

The night had been much cooler than it had been in the day. Bryce had shoved his hands into his coat pockets as they stood close to the edge. They were waiting for the next barrage of cabs and for people to flock them. He didn’t want to wait long. He was already thinking about all the things he wanted to do with Maci before the biting chill had forced his thoughts elsewhere.

She shifted a little closer, nearly startling him. Smiling to himself, he retrieved one of his hands to wrap his arm around her, bringing her impossibly closer.

She buried her face into his side.

The gesture was too adorable not to poke fun. “Friends, huh?” Those weren’t the words he was looking for, but they were the words that had left his lips. He hadn’t even realized he was still lingering on the word. Friends with benefits. It wasn’t a new concept for him, he had his fair share of lovers in the past and couldn’t place his fingers on why he thought of them now.

“Sssh, I’m burrowing. For warmth.”

His laugh rumbled his chest, and she angled her chin to peer up at him. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“And I’m about to be luckier in a second.” Without waiting for her response, Bryce dipped his head low enough to capture her lips. Kissing her was the only thing he could think of doing when she looked at him like that. The worse part was she probably hadn’t realized she was doing it – staring up at him with such naked honesty, with a sparkle in her eyes. It had done something to his heart. And all he could think of doing was kissing her. His other hand came to cup her cheek and he heard her appreciative moan as he deepened the kiss. God, kissing her was easy. It was stopping that was hard.

He felt her hands gripping the folds of his jacket and her soft sigh when his tongue slid between her waiting lips.

The sound of a taxi blaring their horn had jolted Bryce enough for him to tear himself away. When he glanced back at her - her eyes were slightly wide, and her cheeks were slightly red against her dark skin. Damn, she was beautiful. And he wanted to kiss her again.

Barely stifling the urge, Bryce took her hand and ushered her into the back of the cab. He hesitated for a moment when the driver had turned expectantly at him. Despite their earlier exchange he didn’t Maci wasn’t in the right state of mind for what he had planned.

Besides, he wanted their first time together a little more romantic than stumbling drunkenly into his home. Smiling at the driver, he directed instructions for separate addresses before leaning back into his seat.

Almost immediately, Maci had shifted enough to rest her head on him and her dark hair spilled across his shoulder as she yawned.

Bryce knew he had made the right decision. He tucked his arm around her and she snuggled closer. “I just need a second,” she mumbled. Another yawn escaped as she closed her eyes, “just a second to catch my breath.”

“Uh huh. Are you sure?” He wasn’t convinced. “I wouldn’t want to get in between you and burrowing….for warmth.” He flinched suddenly as a stinging sensation came from his side. “Ow! Did you just – did you just pinch me?”

“I plead the fifth.” She murmured.

Shaking his head, Bryce watched her for a moment longer before leaning his head back. The rest of the day had finally caught up to him and it was more than his feet that had been aching by the end of his shift. Nevertheless, he hadn’t allowed his exhaustion to stop him from saying yes tonight. He wanted to see Maci. More remarkably, he wanted to see her more and more - instead of less and less. Maybe friends with benefits wouldn’t always be enough. 

“Tonight was fun. Good change of pace for me.”

He hadn’t realized she heard him until her voice had broken their companionable silence. “Me too.”

-

[takingcourage]

Detected

Pairing: Jaime x MC (I do write for other pairings. I promise)

Word Count: 1,600

Summary: Sometimes the ability to read minds makes it difficult to keep secrets. 

Note: This story was written as part of my 150 Followers Celebration and fulfills kiss prompt #15 (Kissing someone to stop them blurting out a secret/something they’ll regret). 

Your lunch has arrived! And your boyfriend too. 😉

Arden’s phone screen lit with the incoming text, and her face followed suit as she read. When Jaime had suggested coming by the studio to have a meal together during the middle of the week, he couldn’t have expected just how hectic her morning might have been, nor what a reprieve it would be for her to spend a few minutes of time with him in the midst of copy deadlines and interviews and research…

She proofed her email one final time, pressed send, and rose from her chair to meet Jaime in the entry. They’d managed to keep their newfound romance from her coworkers for the past couple of weeks, and she wasn’t in any hurry to change anyone’s perceptions. It wasn’t that she had any qualms about dating Jaime. If anything, the relationship made her look good. But for the moment it was just simpler this way. She still wasn’t sure how seriously Alec took her in her new role, but she was fairly certain that being at the root of office drama wasn’t going to improve the interactions she had with her boss.

Grabbing her phone and keys, she left the desk and turned the corner out of the writing room, headed for the hallway and the outer door that led to the lobby of the building.

“Gale?” Alec’s voice curbed her step and she turned on her heel to face him. “I’ve said it before, but get rid of those shoes. They look like you pulled them off a thrift-store mannequin.”

I don’t think thrift-store mannequins have feet… at least they don’t in the ones I’ve been to. Alec’s really stretching today. Tony's voice popped into Arden’s mind, and she had to fight the urge to giggle at her coworker’s observation.

For a moment, all Arden could do was blink, trying to take both comments in stride. By the time she spoke, most of the edge had gone out of her voice. “I’m not getting rid of them, but I will try not to wear them on camera again.” Playing nice with Alec always meant walking the fine line between caving and fighting an unnecessary battle. 

“See that you don’t. You’re the new face of Northbridge News, Gale. Don’t make me regret promoting you.”

Somebody needs to say something to this jerk. If he thinks he can keep demeaning her like this, he’s got another thing coming.

This time, the voice wasn’t Tony’s, Arden realized with a panic. She pivoted toward the sound to see Jaime taking the hallway in long strides.

"What's your boyfriend doing here, Gale?" Alec's face contorted into its signature sneer as he turned questioning eyes on her.

I've got this, Arden.

But the flash of anger in Jaime's eyes sent her heart to her throat. There was no way this conversation would end well for any of them if she allowed him to speak. Instead, she braced herself and took action.

Jaime was still a step away, so she sprang forward, throwing her arms around his neck. Startled by her sudden burst of affection, he faltered back, arms coming to hold her in place as he caught his balance. 

Their lips met in a kiss, and though she wasn't one for passionate public displays, Arden employed all of her skill to give him a kiss that would wipe all thoughts of Alec from his mind. 

Insistently, her tongue slipped between his open mouth, running along the inside of his lower lip as she pulled him closer. She pushed up on her toes, almost wishing that she'd remembered Alec's footwear recommendations earlier so that she could have the extra inches. 

Jaime made up the distance, bending his head down so that she could reach him easily. If he had been startled by her abrupt beginning, he now played along as though it was something they’d planned in advance. The moment he scraped his teeth against her bottom lip, she knew that his immediate frustrations with Alec had been forgotten. With one final, emphatic smooch, she stepped back, confident in the feeling of a job well done.

Perhaps a little too well done, she mused upon realizing just how lightheaded she was in the aftermath. It was a wonder she remained standing after leaving that kind of embrace.

The absence of her own thoughts did not keep others from piling in, however.

Damn, was all Tony could think.

I knew it! I knew they were dating! courtesy of June

You could have given me some warning, Arden. Not that I'm complaining, but... Jaime’s cheeks were bright red, whether from embarrassment or arousal, she couldn’t tell. 

Only Alec's comments came through with a full voice. "Save the drama for the cameras, Gale. And please get your boyfriend out of my studio. I don't like his face."

"Then it’s fortunate you're not the one dating him, Mr. Burdock," she replied curtly, hearing the objections in the thoughts of her coworkers. She'd take care to see that Jaime left their lunch date with no doubt as to how very much she adored his face, but trotting that information out in front of her boss didn't seem productive. "I'm taking my lunch now. I'll be back in twenty minutes to finish my research for the evening broadcast."

"Fine."

"Woohoo!" June cheered in the background when they clasped hands. "I knew it. Didn't I call this weeks ago, Tony?"

"You did. And I guess that’s what all of that smirking was about back at the library..."

Arden's face turned a deeper shade of scarlet as the voices faded. Jaime wisely remained silent until they'd passed through the building’s front doors, but she could read his concern anyway. 

"What happened back there? I know you weren't planning for anyone at work to find out we were dating until later...."

"I just panicked,” she told him truthfully, finding a seat on one of the benches outside the studio. “And making out with you in front of the whole office seemed preferable to having you throw down the gauntlet at my boss."

I certainly enjoyed it more, his thoughts told her, though he said only, "I'm so sorry, Arden. I didn't mean to put you in that kind of position."

"It's fine," she evaded, flipping open the top of her carryout and stabbing the contents with her fork. "They were going to find out eventually regardless."

"Sure, but I still feel bad. I shouldn't have been so upset with him. I just hate it when people undermine you, Arden."

"I know you do.” Conscious that their time was limited, she piled in a quick bite of pasta. Arden chewed the mouthful with amusement, remembering the many times they’d stood up for one another in the past. He'd never risked the principal’s office except on her behalf. 

“And honestly?” she started again, wiping sauce from the corner of her mouth. “It’s kind of flattering to know that you’re willing to put yourself in danger to keep me out of trouble.” 

Like Burdock poses any great bodily harm...

"Fair point. But I still think we need to establish some parameters. There are just some battles I have to fight on my own, and when it comes to Alec, I'm better off doing it solo."

"Even when he takes advantage of you?"

"Jaime, this is a cutthroat business. It feels even more ruthless after everything that happened with Ellen. If my boss wants to insult my shoes, I'm not going to let it get to me. I’m not going to bow to his every whim, but I am going to do everything I can to prove him wrong when he questions my abilities. I can’t do that if I get myself fired over something dumb.”

"But you know I'm always there on the sidelines, right? And if he crosses any of your lines, Arden, you'd better let me know."

"I promise." She extended a hand to squeeze his shoulder. “Alec Burdock isn’t going to come between me and achieving my dreams.”

“There’s my best girl,” he acknowledged, smiling. 

“I’d better be your only girl,” her voice rose in a faux reprimand. 

“Always.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

“I’m going to have to go back in there soon,” she groaned minutes later, packing up her leftovers.

“Would it help if I went in with you?”

“Ugh. No, I think that would make things worse. And who knows? Maybe some insane story has broken in the last fifteen minutes and everyone’s forgotten about the scene we made.” Her eyebrows arched with an optimism she didn’t feel. 

“They're probably all just jealous that you snagged up such a paragon of masculinity.”

Arden snorted at his self-aggrandizing. “And now I’m starting to question my taste in men...” 

He captured her lips in a kiss. No, you’re not. 

“No, I’m not,” she agreed when he pulled away. “But you’d better not call yourself that ever again.” 

“Noted.” 

“I really do need to get back in there before Alec sends someone out to get me,” she insisted with a glance at her phone screen. 

“I should probably go too. But I’m only a call away if you need me.” 

"It’ll all work out. On the plus side, I can probably get by with at least a peck on the cheek next time you come to visit me at work.”

“I can’t wait.” He gave her a parting kiss before turning toward the parking lot.  

“And Jaime?” She caught him just as he was walking out of earshot. “Before I forget, I like your face.” 

[argylemnwrites]

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment - Chapter 12

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (Canon Divergent from Book 2, Chapter 15)

Word Count: ~4500

Rating: R (adult language - and lots of it)

Summary: Drake and Riley struggle to understand each other’s point of view and balance their own needs with each other’s. At the same time, Olivia has an interesting conversation with her aunt.

Author’s Note: This series diverges from TRR canon, where instead of waiting to discuss his relationship with Riley until their last night in NYC, leaving her a note while Liam is proposing to her, Drake tackles this topic as soon as possible after Tariq makes his statement and Riley’s name is cleared. To catch up on this series, you can find the previous chapters in my masterlist (link is located in my bio).

Riley felt like she might faint. Drake’s words hit her emotionally before she could even fully process them. She knew this was going to happen. She’d known it since the first attack.

“I should have known you would do this to me.”

“Liu, no. This doesn’t have anything to do with-”

“Bullshit this doesn’t have anything to do with me! Drake, do you even hear yourself right now?”

Drake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know this seems bad, but you have to believe me-”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she threw out, the frustration and fear bubbling out of her, “Not when you come in here and drop this bomb on me.”

“I’m trying to explain, Liu,” he said, eyes downcast and heavy sighs escaping him, “It’s not like I plan to stay here forever. I just have to take care of some things.”

“What things?”

“Dumb doesn’t suit you, Liu. You know what I’m talking about here.”

“Fine. How long?”

“What?” he asked, clearly thrown by her rapid redirection of the conversation.

“How much longer do you need to stay here?”

“Liu…”

“It’s a simple question, Drake,” she said, crossing her arms and stepping up in front of him, getting close enough he had to make eye contact, “You’re telling me that your staying here isn’t forever. I just want to know how long you are planning on remaining in Cordonia.”

He swallowed roughly, but kept his eyes locked on hers. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you see why that might be frustrating to me?”

“I know, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how long this will take.”

“Fine, you won’t give me a timeline,” she said, stepping away from him and starting to pace across the room, “Then at least tell me what needs to happen before you’ll consider leaving.”

“Come on, Riley. It’s not like I can make a checklist here.”

She pivoted back toward him, gesturing emphatically, “Do you see how this doesn’t look good from where I’m standing?”

“I get that, but this is something I need to do. I have to make things right here, and I think I’ve pretty much proved that it won’t happen if I’m in New York by this point.”

Riley shook her head, trying to will herself not to cry, at least not yet. Once the tears started flowing, she knew it would be harder for her to make her point, but she just felt so ambushed right now. “The worst part is I’m not supposed to get mad at you because your reason for leaving me is a noble one.”

“Leaving you? No, Riley, I would never-”

“See, you say you would never, but the fact is that you just told me you plan to stay in a different country indefinitely. That feels an awful lot like you leaving me.”

Drake ran his hands over his face, clearly trying to come up with the right thing to say. “This won’t be forever, Liu.”

Riley couldn’t stop the tears at this point. “Are you sure about that?”

“Riley, believe me I’m coming back,” he said, grabbing her by her shoulders, staring at her with so much intensity. It was clear he believed his words, but Riley couldn’t help but feel he was being naive. There would always be a reason for him to stay. Liam would face some new stress, Savannah would need his help, and he would never say no. This did not feel like it was going to be temporary.

Drake seemed to be emboldened by the fact that she hadn’t moved away from his touch, tugging her into a loose hug. But Riley couldn’t find it in herself to uncross her arms and hug him back. Her mind was still swirling, racing, half trying to find a way to convince him to come back with her and half trying to reel her emotions back under control. Her thoughts were all over the place, but one thread kept weaving its way through all of them.

“How long have you known?”

“What?” Drake pulled back, not following her train of thought.

“How long have you known that you were going to stay in Cordonia?”

“Just today.”

“Come on, Drake. You can’t expect me to believe that.”

The first flicker of anything other than sadness and guilt flashed across his face at those words, fire lighting in his eyes for the first time she could remember since he’d found out about Constantine’s death, “Why wouldn’t you believe me? What have I ever done to you that you won’t trust me on this?”

“Maybe the fact that you clearly hate living in New York and have not made any real attempts to fit in there?”

“No attempts- Shit, Liu,” he fumbled for words briefly as he ran his hand through his hair before starting again, “I hunted endlessly for jobs, all of which sounded awful. I started to learn my way around your noisy, crowded neighborhood. I took care of your dog and cooked you meals. I came down to see you at work every night. Tell me what fucking more I could have done to fit in!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe come out for drinks with me and my friends? Tried to get to know the owner of the diner or form any sort of friendship there? Join a gym and get to know some guys? Basically anything other than retreating to the apartment in your free time and turning yourself into some sort of hermit?” Riley could practically feel the sarcasm dripping from her words at this point, matching the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks.

“You knew I wasn’t some goddamn social butterfly, and you insisted you wanted to be together anyway. If you wanted to be with someone who was gonna be the perfect boyfriend to take out and show off to your friends, you should have just stayed with Liam!”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO BE WITH LIAM?” she yelled, anger rapidly overriding her other storm of emotions. “I’ve told you this for months! Stop fucking doubting me!”

“Why is it when I have doubts about you and Liam, I’m the one in the wrong, but when you have doubts about me coming back to New York, I’m still the one in the wrong?” he growled, hands waving between the two of them in frustration.  “It’s a bunch of bullshit that your insecurities are worth addressing, but mine are somehow insane and you can just shit all over them.”

“Except you have no evidence that I have any desire to be with Liam. My fears are very founded, Drake. You have been halfway to Cordonia since the night of the first attack. You never even unpacked your fucking suitcase.�� Riley paused to take a breath before the root of it all spilled out of her.  “Hell, I practically had to drag you into this relationship. You may tell me you aren’t leaving me, but your actions have always told a very different story.”

Drake opened his mouth as if to respond, but paused for several tense moments before he finally said, “I’m not sure which half of that is more wrong. Did I just imagine you flirting with Liam? Kissing Liam? Pursuing a relationship with him for months during the social season while whatever the hell was going on between us grew into some fucking dirty secret?”

Riley’s eyes dropped to ground. He wasn’t wrong, but those early interactions with Liam felt like a lifetime ago. Drake must have sensed her guilt, because he continued his rant at a softer volume and pace. “Am I just supposed to pretend that those first few months didn’t happen? Because I fucking can’t, Liu. And I know I should move past it and let it go, but every time I fail you, I can’t help it. My brain just goes there. And it’s hard to shake.

“As far as my actions, I don’t know what to stay other than I stayed. I may have been grumpy. I may have been unhappy. But I fucking stayed because I wanted to be with you, no matter the cost.”

Riley scowled at that, “Don’t turn yourself into some martyr here.”

“Sorry, I know I’m not saying this right. I’m just trying to tell you that what we have mattered more to me than all the rest of the bullshit. You mattered more.”

“Until now.”

Drake sighed at that. “Being back here, it’s clear that I need to stick around a little longer. Liam needs-”

“Of fucking course he does. Tell me, do you plan to put Liam’s needs above mine forever, or is this just your guilty conscience talking?”

“He’s my best friend! I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to say you’ll come home with me!”

The plea burst out before Riley could stop herself. It was completely against her better judgement, and she knew his answer before he could even react, but Drake’s eyes fell to the floor before he said, “You know I can’t do that.” His voice was quieter, more cautious.

“Because you have to resolve things here, or because New York isn’t home to you?”

The silence seemed to stretch on forever before he finally replied, “Riley…”

“It’s fine. I knew this would probably happen if you came back here. Give me my keys.”

“No, Riley.”

“If you decide you want to come back, you can take them again. But I can’t risk having to pay to have the building rekeyed if you don’t.”

“I swear I’m coming back. I feel like if I give you the keys, then I am acting like I don’t want to be with you. I love you, Riley. I don’t want to break up. Do you?”

“Of course I don’t want to break up, but I have to be realistic about this, and the fact is that there is a decent chance you are going to stay here. Getting left by a boyfriend is bad enough, I’m not going to pay hundreds of dollars on top of that because he was trying to prove a point.”

“You just told me my actions make you think I have one foot out the door, and you expect me to just hand over my keys? Liu, I’m not that much of an idiot.”

Riley wiped away some tears. She appreciated what Drake was saying, appreciated his desire to show her he intended to come back. But the problem wasn’t that she thought he intended to stay in Cordonia forever. It just seemed likely that things would end up shaking out that way. She may not have known Drake for very long, but she knew that once he stayed to be with Liam, he was going to be loyal. With a terror threat, with him losing his dad, there was just no way she was going to get him back.

“Maybe I could move here with him,” she thought, but she quickly squashed that idea, at least right now. Her being here was clearly a barrier preventing whatever discussion needed to take place between Drake and Liam. Plus, Drake had not asked her to stay. Surely, if he wanted her here, he would have posed the question.

As if he could read her mind, Drake continued, stepping up to Riley and cupping her cheek, “This isn’t a breakup, Liu. This is just something I gotta do on my own. Don’t make it a breakup by taking back the keys. Please, Riley.”

He ran his hand through her hair, staring at her with desperation in his eyes. He looked as broken as she felt. He always did understand her in a way no one else seemed to.

Before she could stop herself, Riley took a half step forward, completely closing the distance between them as she threw her hands around his neck and yanked him down for for a kiss. He responded instantly, groaning as he pulled her flush against him.

In the back of her mind, Riley knew this wasn’t the wisest course of action, but as his hands sank under her sweater, gliding over her rib cage, she couldn’t quite be bothered to care. It just felt too damn good. And if she never saw him again, she didn’t want to waste another moment of this night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I was impressed by you yesterday, Olivia. I thought that you had been spending too much time at the capital and that the festival would be a disaster, but I have to say, you proved me wrong.”

Aunt Lucretia raised her coffee mug toward Olivia in a sort-of toast, as if her words would be flattering.

“Yeah, well just because I don’t do things your way doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.” Olivia knew her response made her sound like a petulant child, she just couldn’t help it. Years of neglect, but suddenly she pops up just to pass judgment on Olivia’s governing decisions? It was insulting and ridiculous, and Olivia prayed that this successful Winter Festival might send her away once again.

“I confess I thought you were just blindly loyal to the crown, but seeing the way you’ve handled the King, I am happy to acknowledge that you truly are a Nevrakis.”

“What are you talking about, Aunt Lecretia?”

“Why, your affair with King Liam, of course.”

Olivia nearly choked on her sip of coffee at her aunt’s accusation. “I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but I assure you that-”

“Oh, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I know he stayed in your office alone with you very late after the ball the other night. Smart of you to use your office instead of either of your rooms, I might add. Will keep suspicion low.”

Olivia was floored by her aunt’s conclusion. Did a private conversation with Liam really set off rumors of a sexual relationship? She was the Duchess of Lythikos, for fuck’s sake! There were hundreds of reasons for her to meet privately with the King. She didn’t want to reveal the truth too early, though. She didn’t know where her aunt was going with this, and if her aunt was in a sharing mood, it might be best to play things close to her vest for now.

“I might need to make some changes if my staff is gossiping with you about my romantic involvement with him.” There, that didn’t convey too much, and hopefully it would get Aunt Lucretia talking.

“Oh no, my dear. They just told me where he was when I was looking for him toward the end of the ball that night. I put two and two together when I thought about how much time you are spending at the capital. It’s very smart, really. Men always grow to resent their wives, but a mistress can influence things for a long time if she knows what she’s doing.

“When I heard you lost out on an engagement to Madeleine Richards, I thought you must be a complete waste of the Nevrakis name. It’s why I had to hire PIs to follow some of the other members of court, to see if there were any scandals that might disrupt his commitment to her. It’s how I found out that our dear king was so partial to a common waitress from America. I’ve been wondering, did you encourage her relationship with the commoner Walker, or was that just a fortuitous coincidence?”

Olivia contemplated her response carefully. She needed to keep her aunt talking, that much was clear. “Well, their attraction didn’t take much encouragement.”

“Good girl,” said Aunt Lucretia with a wink, “I am so sorry I underestimated you. I wish I had known your plan all along. I fear that my actions may have hindered you at certain points, but you have to understand, I had no idea that you were taking these steps behind the scenes. I’m sorry I had so little faith in you. I should have known a Nevrakis would never just roll over and accept defeat.”

Olivia bypassed the backhanded compliments and focused on the part of her aunt’s statement that had her the most curious. “What do you mean, your actions may have hindered me?”

“Oh, trying to force an abdication kind of undoes all the work you’ve put into building a connection with the King, doesn’t it?”

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek so forcefully she could taste the blood in her mouth, but she needed to keep her expression neutral, no matter how tempting it would be to pick up her knife and stab it into this traitor’s heart. Her aunt was clearly a part of the attacks, possibly even the primary orchestrator, and right now, she thought Olivia was on her side. She had to keep her thinking that way. Olivia raced to try to piece together her aunt’s plan and her end goal here. It had to be to get a Nevrakis on the throne. If Aunt Lucretia was regretting working towards abdication, that would mean that she was hopeful that Liam would produce an heir with her before he did so with Madeleine. Olivia knew how she had to play this.

“Yes, and wouldn’t you agree that producing an heir would be a much more skillful way of gaining power than forcing a messy abdication that will leave the population torn as to who is the rightful leader?”

Lucretia’s lips curled into a wide grin, “I should have had more faith in you. You truly are a Nevrakis through and through, with great strength and cunning. Now that I know your endgame, I have something I think might help you. I have a piece ready to run tomorrow on the Cordonia News Network about this Riley Liu and her relationship with both the king and with Walker.”

“How would that help me?”

“Don’t you see, Olivia? It will highlight his heartbreak for the whole world to see. He will turn to you for comfort, and, shall we say, certain protective measures might be forgotten in the heat of the moment.”

Olivia suppressed a shudder at her aunt’s statement. She had to convince her aunt to delay the story while she figured out how best to handle this whole situation. She also had to get out of the dining room soon. Her anger had reached a dangerous breaking point, and her cover would soon be blown if her temper flared. Olivia knew she had many strengths, but keeping a calm and steady hand really wasn’t one of them.

“Aunt Lucretia, I appreciate the sentiment, but I fear that such a mistake on Liam’s part right now would be a detriment to me in the long run. We do not need to be so hasty; Liam is not sleeping with Madeleine at this point, and they have yet to set a new wedding date. Let me fully gain his trust. Hold off on that story for now, please.”

Aunt Lucretia narrowed her eyes, but nodded after a moment. “Very well, I have some other matters to address now that I fully understand you plan of action. The story can wait, but know that it is available if you need it. I am here to support you. Together, we can get a Nevrakis on the throne, where we rightfully belong.”

“Thank you, Aunt Lucretia,” Olivia replied, grasping her aunt’s bony hand in what she hoped came across as a sign of solidarity. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to my office to read through my daily communications.”

“Of course, dear.”

Olivia rose from the table and walked out of the dining room as calmly as possible. When she had made it around several corners, she let out a string of curses under her breath before she pulled out her phone and contacted her driver. She needed to get to the palace now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley’s suitcase was fairly small and light, but Drake felt like he was holding hundreds of pounds as he carried it over to baggage screening.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go down. He never wanted his life to turn into this messy, complicated ball of crap. But no matter how he thought about it, at the end of the day, he was letting down one of the two most important people in his life.

He’d gone over things hundreds of times in his mind. Trying to make things work, for Liam and Riley. Finding a way to be there for both of them. But he just couldn’t figure it out. So he’d had to make a choice. He just wasn’t sure it was the right one.

But Liam needed him, that much was clear. Even in the limited time they had spent together since his father’s funeral, Drake could tell that Liam wasn’t coping well. He was smiling too much, plastering on his diplomatic mask all the time. There was the slight tremor in his hands, probably due to the fact that he wasn’t really sleeping and just running on pure caffeine at this point. He hadn’t had any breakfast in front of him the other morning, and he’d basically just moved food around his plate at the dinner after the funeral. He wasn’t handling things at all, and if he didn’t find a way to process some shit soon, Liam was going to shut down.

Riley wasn’t wrong when she said he was staying with Liam out of guilt. Of course he felt guilty, not just for his relationship with Riley, but for not being there for Liam during this crisis, through attacks and his father’s death. It was like university all over again. And again, he choose to be with Liam. He just hoped it wouldn’t cost him his relationship with Riley like it had cost him things with Natalie back then.

Of course, the situation with Riley wasn’t exactly identical to how things had been with Natalie. He’d had the tough conversation with Riley instead of bolting without an in-person goodbye. His text to Natalie after landing in Cordonia had been met with a barrage of expletive-loaded messages, calling him every name under the sun. It had saddened him, but he hadn’t felt regret like he did now. The pain he’d caused Natalie had barely been a blip on the radar. The pain he was causing Riley cut him to his core. But he just couldn’t see a way around it. Not only did he feel a sense of obligation to Liam, one of the few people who had always been there for him, who always looked out for him, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to move forward in his life, in any shape or form, without mending things with Liam. And that clearly wasn’t going to happen long distance if the past month was any indication.

Supporting his friend, saving that bond, might have cost him the woman he was pretty convinced was the love of his life, though. Their talk or fight or whatever the hell last night was had been all over the place. There had been tears. Yelling. Painful confessions. Pleas. Sex. As Riley drifted off to sleep last night, laying with her head against his shoulder and her arm thrown across him, he wasn’t really sure where they stood. This morning, Riley had slept in, not leaving them much time to talk before he had to take her to the airport. The thing that reassured him most was that she’d held his hand the entire drive to the airport and had not requested her keys back since last night. Still, he could sense that she’d thrown up some pretty big walls with him. He just wanted her to keep talking, hell even keep yelling at him. But she was closed off. Guarded. Quiet. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this. Then again, prior to last night, he’d never felt like he did anything that broke her trust. She was obviously protecting herself, but it was endlessly frustrating. The irony of the fact that Riley herself probably felt the same way about him at various points during the social season wasn’t lost on him.

The line for security was blissfully short, but for once, it would have been nice to be held up. To have just a few more minutes with her. He didn’t know when he would see her next, not to mention he didn’t know if he would be able to repair their relationship when he did. A part of him wanted to drag her out of the line. Beg her to stay in Cordonia with him. Tell her how much he needed her by his side. But he knew that part of him was selfish. She had just started rebuilding her life in New York. She had a job; she had friends; she had a home. He couldn’t ask her to give all that up for an indefinite amount of time. Not when she had already given up everything for him.

They were now only two groups back from the security agent. He should say goodbye now. It wasn’t about to get any easier by waiting any longer. All holding off was doing was delaying the inevitable.

“Liu, I-”

“I get it, Drake. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

Drake nodded, dropping his eyes to the ground. All the words that popped into his head felt inadequate. After a few seconds of silence, Riley stepped up to him, her duffle bag gently swinging against his knee.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” She wrapped her arms around him with her words, and Drake felt his own arms pulling her in tighter before he could fully process her goodbye.

“I love you, Riley,” he mumbled against the top of her head.

She held onto him for a few more moments before stepping back from him and moving forward in the queue. There was only one person left ahead of her.

“I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Liu…”

She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward her for a kiss. It was intense and demanding, desperate and raw. Drake slid his hands through her hair, not knowing when he would get the chance to kiss her again. If she would ever let him kiss her again. All too soon, the sound of a clearing throat interrupted them. It was Riley’s turn to have her passport and ticket verified.

She dropped her bag onto the x-ray machine and stepped through the metal detector, her black hair swinging in her ponytail as she walked toward her terminal. He didn’t take his eyes off her until she rounded the corner. He thought she might not look back at all, but at the last second she turned, her eyes locking on him in an instant. It was hard to tell from a distance, but Drake thought he saw tears trailing down her cheeks. But after a second, she raised her hand and nodded goodbye. Then, she was gone.

Tags: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenofcronuts @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @carabeth @feartheendlesssummer @jovialyouthmusic @gibbles82 @iplaydrake @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @ao719 @dcbbw

[magefeatheredfic]

It’s not technically Valentine’s Day here yet, but I’m getting ready for bed so I figured I’d slap my @mysmevalentinesdayexchange​ fic up real quick! Happy Valentine’s Day to @leiram-art​ I really hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Saeyoung x MC

Rating: G

Word Count: 4,500

All throughout their lives, ice cream had been the rarest and most treasured treat for the Choi twins. When they were young: because they had no money, because they weren't allowed to leave the house together, because they weren't allowed to ask for unnecessary things - or even necessary ones. When they were apart: because Mint Eye offered luxuries like sweets few and far between, because the mere thought of ice cream reminded 707 of the person he'd been, and the person he'd left behind; above all, because neither of them felt very deserving of it at any point in that span of time. Now that they're reunited: because Saeran's anxiety prevents him from leaving the house almost as effectively as their mother had, and because keeping it in the house seemed like it would taint the speciality of it, ruin all their memories of ice cream as the highest reward.

But it's still cold enough in February that the ice cream parlor nearest to their apartment is almost always empty, even on Valentine's Day, and an empty shop is the most inviting kind to those with anxiety. Saeyoung has been awash with loneliness ever since he weaseled himself out of his job as an agent - “Nothing is stopping me from getting a girlfriend anymore, and I still can't manage to find one!” - and Saeran's mental health is still trying to bounce back from the seasonal depression, and both of these conditions are only exacerbated by the impending doom that is the lovey-dovey holiday. As such, the brothers decide to treat each other to a nice ice cream outing on Valentine’s day, so that neither of them is stuck moping around the house over their lack of partnership.

The bell above the door jingles when they enter, catching the attention of the girl behind the counter. “Welcome!” she calls, glancing up at the boys and throwing a bright smile their way.

“Oh no,” Saeyoung whispers, coming to a halt just inside the doorway, one arm held out to stop Saeran in his tracks as well.

Saeran looks down at the hand on his chest, brows furrowed, then looks to Saeyoung. “What's wrong?” he asks. Saeyoung nods his head toward the cashier.

“She's cute,” he answers, sounding positively mortified. 

Saeran sighs, pushing Saeyoung's arm aside and continuing into the shop. “Wait!” Saeyoung hisses. He grabs Saeran by the sleeve, tugging his brother back. “I need time to prepare myself!”

“Prepare yourself a little closer to the counter, so I can see what flavors they have,” Saeran says. “You look like a creep hovering in the doorway.”

Saeyoung groans, and follows Saeran across the dining area. Saeran examines the case of ice cream flavors, while Saeyoung tries to control his breathing. Talking to beautiful women as an agent, when he simply needed to use them to finish a job, had been easy. Flirting with any cute girl he saw when he knew he wasn't allowed to have relationships, and therefore it didn't matter whether or not she reciprocated, had been a piece of cake. But actually approaching a girl who looked cuter than anything his imagination could have cooked up, and smiled like she might actually understand his sense of humor, when he was free and able to have romantic intentions? Speaking to her face to face?

Saeyoung felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Are you guys ready?” her voice chimes, startling Saeyoung out of his thoughts. His eyes dart up to her face, and he feels his cheeks heat when she smiles at him. He smiles back, but his mind blanks itself of all verbal responses. Luckily, Saeran speaks up.

“I think so.”

The girl turns her attention to Saeran, but Saeyoung can't take his eyes off of her. “Cup or cone?” she asks. Saeyoung watches the way her lips wrap around the question, the way her tied-back hair swings over her shoulder when she turns to grab Saeran's choice of cone. “And what flavor would you like?”

“A scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate.”

Saeyoung's eyes follow her as she ducks down to reach into the display case, scooping out Saeran's order. She steps a little further down the line, stopping in front of the toppings display. Saeyoung finally manages to tear his eyes away when she glances back at the pair of them, asking Saeran, “Any toppings?”

Saeran steps over to take a look at the options, while Saeyoung pretends to be incredibly interested in the menu board hanging overhead. “Chopped peanuts. Please.”

She hands Saeran his cone once he's confirmed that he doesn't want any more toppings, then returns to Saeyoung. “And for you?”

Saeyoung allows his eyes to return to her when she addresses him, and his lips return the smile she gives him without any input from his brain. It doesn't occur to him that he should be replying until she prompts, “Cup or cone?”

“Ah!” The question manages to startle Saeyoung out of his stupor, and kick his brain into gear. Her interaction with Saeran had been so standard and plain, he wanted to immediately separate himself from any idea she might have that he and his twin were identical in personality as well. “A cup, please,” he replies. His eyes flick down to her name tag, and he leans in as he reads it. “MC.”

Her smile brightens when he uses her name, and she bats her eyes at him when she turns to grab his cup. “And what flavor would you like?”

Saeyoung blinks, his smile falters. He realizes that he has not so much as glanced at the flavor options. His eyes drop down to the display case, and he hums thoughtfully. There are too many flavors for him to make a quick decision, so he improvises. Leaning his arms on the display, propping his chin up on one palm, he fixes her with a bright grin and asks, “What does the chef recommend?”

MC snorts out a laugh, glances from side to side, then leans over the glass. “Don't tell the other patrons, but we don't actually make the ice cream ourselves,” she tells him in a playful stage whisper. Saeyoung reels back with an exaggerated gasp, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“What a scandal!” he proclaims. “I don't think I can eat here if you didn't milk the cow yourself out back of the shop!”

Saeyoung watches the laughter bubble up and spill from her lips, and his heart melts. Off to the side, Saeran rolls his eyes, licking at where his ice cream has started to melt down the side of his cone.

When her laughter dies down, MC straightens up. “If you really wanna know what I'd pick, though, we just got in this new specialty flavor that I am obsessed with.” She taps the glass, pointing to a tub of light yellow ice cream. “It's honey buddha flavor, based on the chips!” Saeyoung's eyes widen as they snap down to read the label, confirming her claim. “Some people don't like the saltiness of the flavor mixed with the sweetness of ice cream, but I think it's a perfect combo!” She reaches for a sampling spoon, but Saeyoung waves his hands to stop her.

“Say no more!” he announces. “I'll take three scoops of the honey buddha flavor. You, miss MC, have exquisite taste!”

MC beams at the silly compliment, and when she ducks down to scoop his order, Saeyoung thinks he sees a hint of a blush on her cheeks. When she stands and starts toward the toppings Saeyoung follows her automatically, not wanting her to walk away from him, even just those few steps.

“And for toppings?” she asks. “Do you like nuts, too?” The sparkle in her eye and the quirk of her brow tell Saeyoung she knows exactly what she's doing when she adds, “Or do you prefer cherries?”

Saeyoung waggles his eyebrows in return. “Can't a man enjoy both?” he answers, his voice low.

MC fakes a gasp, covering her mouth. “It appears we both have scandalous secrets!” She giggles, before lowering her voice. “Don't worry, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine.”

Saeyoung slathers his words in exaggerated sincerity, pressing his palm to his heart and giving her a slight bow. “You're the truest friend I've ever made in an ice cream parlor.”

The pair descends into a fit of laughter, causing the few other customers sprinkled throughout the shop to turn in their direction. Saeran steps away from them, waiting by the cash register at the end of the counter to avoid any unwanted attention. MC takes a few deep breaths to calm herself, but her voice is still is still bubbly when she asks, “So, chopped nuts and cherries?”

Saeyoung nods emphatically, still chuckling. “And sprinkles, too! Rainbow, not chocolate.”

“A honey buddha sundae with nuts, cherries, and rainbow sprinkles?” MC asks dubiously, though her grin is still in place. “That has got to be the most interesting sundae I’ve made in a while.”

“Then I guess I’ve got to be the most interesting customer you’ve had in a while!” Saeyoung’s heart thuds through his chest at the brazen line, but he’s on too strong of a roll to let his anxiety stop him. To his surprise, MC’s smile never falters.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirms. Saeyoung grins widely, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips, and MC's cheeks flare. She ducks her head as she loads on his choice of toppings, hiding her blush behind the fringe of her hair. Saeyoung watches her fondly, admiring her embarrassed side just as much as her joking side. When his sundae is complete, she hands it to him over the display case, then heads toward the register.

“Ah, sorry for the wait!” she apologizes to Saeran upon seeing him waiting at the register, as if she had fully forgotten he was also there.

“It's no problem,” he replies with a shake of his head. MC sends him a thankful smile, and proceeds to type their order into the register. Saeran glances up at Saeyoung, who’s watching MC's fingers tap at the screen with the most smitten expression Saeran has ever seen his brother wear. He stifles a sigh, marvelling at how utterly hopeless Saeyoung can be; he knows that Saeyoung won't take the final leap to close the deal on his own, so he tries to nudge the pair in the right direction.

“Your boyfriend must hate that you have to work on Valentine's Day,” Saeran comments in what he hopes is an offhand manner. MC chuckles anxiously, her fingers pausing momentarily in their task.

“I'm sure he would, if I had one,” she says, looking up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “As it is, I'm free to work while everyone else is out on their dates.”

“A national tragedy,” Saeyoung laments. “A girl as sweet as you deserves someone to spoil her on Valentine's Day. Hell, every day!” The sincerity in his voice catches him off guard almost as much as her. MC laughs, but it's jittery, as if she isn't sure whether or not he's still joking.

“Yeah… well,” she pauses, unsure of what to say. Her eyes flick from Saeyoung to Saeran, back to Saeyoung, and a grin spreads across her face. She gives an exaggerated shrug. “I think I'd rather be single than out on a date with my brother.”

Saeyoung laughs, the return of the joking atmosphere putting him more at ease. “That's fair,” he concedes. “Though you have to admit, I couldn't ask for a more handsome brother.” He takes a wide sidestep to throw an arm around Saeran's shoulders, tugging his twin against his side. “He looks just like me!”

MC giggles as Saeran shrugs easily out of Saeyoung's hold, a well-practiced art. “Platonic dates are healthy,” he defends, despite his exasperation. “That's what our therapist tells us, anyway.”

MC brings a hand to her mouth to try and stifle her laughter, unsure of whether or not Saeran is joking. “In that case, I won't hold you up any longer,” she says. “Your total is…” She glances at the screen, pauses, and her gaze returns to Saeyoung. “Actually, I need a name for the order first.”

“Saeyoung.” He gives a goofy smile along with his name. “I'm Saeyoung.”

“Okay, Saeyoung,” MC replies, returning his grin. “Your total's going to be…” Saeyoung pulls out his wallet and pays her the specified amount, and as the twins start to walk away, MC calls, “Have a great day!”

Saeyoung turns back toward the counter, holding his ice cream aloft and giving MC a deep bow. “Already accomplished!” he announces. As he straightens up, he says, “I hope yours is even better.” MC smiles and waves them off, and the brothers find a table across the dining room, near the front window. Saeran watches in mild horror as Saeyoung digs into his loaded sundae and melts into his chair almost immediately.

“Dare I say, this is almost as good a combination as real honey buddha chips and Phd. Pepper!” He scoops up another spoonful, making sure all of his toppings are represented, and holds it out toward Saeran. “Try it!”

Saeran stares at the spoon, then flicks his gaze up to Saeyoung. “Absolutely not.”

Saeyoung shrugs, taking the bite himself. “Your loss; more for me!”

The brothers make idle conversation as they finish off their ice cream, discussing the tentative plans for the RFA’s next party, the success of Jaehee’s cafe, the reasons why Vanderwood has kept in touch with Saeran but not Saeyoung. The conversation lulls as Saeran finishes his cone, and Saeyoung absentmindedly stirs his melting ice cream while staring dreamily off into space. Saeran follows his brother’s line of sight, and finds him watching MC as she wipes the fingerprints from the glass above the display cases. Saeran rolls his eyes as he turns back toward Saeyoung.

“Do you have any idea how hopeless you are?”

“Eh?” Saeyoung drops his spoon, startled from his daze by Saeran’s words. Saeran shakes his head.

“I have no space to complain about not having a girlfriend; I never leave the house,” Saeran starts off. “Meanwhile you complain about wanting one all the time, then a girl flirts with you like that and you still don’t ask for her number.”

“You can’t just ask a woman for her number while she’s working, Saeran!” Saeyoung replies, picking up his spoon and pointing it at Saeran accusingly. “It’s disrespectful and predatory. It’s in poor taste!”

“Staring is predatory too, idiot.” Saeran leans an elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he levels Saeyoung with his unimpressed gaze. “Besides, it’s different when she clearly wants you to.”

Saeyoung’s mouth snaps shut, the response he’d prepared dying on his lips. He squints at Saeran, leaning across the table, and whispers, “Tell me what you know.”

Saeran sighs. “Obviously you were flirting with her, right?” Saeyoung nods. “And she was replying in the same way. So she was obviously flirting with you, too.”

Saeyoung sits down, frowning. “Well, we were just joking around. Just because I meant it in a flirting way doesn’t mean she did, too.”

Saeran buries his face in his hands, taking a deep breath before looking back up at his brother. “Okay, well. Did you hear her ask any other customers for their names?”

Saeyoung looks down at the table, thinking. “Well, no,” he says, looking back up. “But that doesn’t mean any-”

“It means she wanted to know your name, specifically. She certainly wasn’t looking at me when she asked.” Saeran leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s single, she has your sense of humor, she clearly likes you as much as you like her. Why are you making excuses?”

Saeyoung’s eyes fall back to his cup of melted ice cream. He swirls what’s left of the concoction with his spoon, watching the trails of color bleeding from his sprinkles. “You of all people should know,” he mutters. “Saeyoung doesn’t flirt, 707 does. Just because she likes Seven, doesn’t mean she’ll like Saeyoung.”

Saeran’s shoulders fall, guilt over his prodding hitting him in the chest. He forgot sometimes that Saeyoung had almost as little self confidence as he himself had. He casts a glance to MC and wracks his brain for something he can say to convince Saeyoung not to let her slip away. He could tell the two of them would be good together.

“You know, something my therapist told me, back in the early days when I refused to talk to anyone… was that if I didn’t want people to abandon me, I couldn’t just assume that they would and push them away first.” He turns his gaze back to Saeyoung. “If you want her to accept you for more than just your jokes, you shouldn’t just assume that she won’t. There’s probably more to her than jokes, too.”

Saeyoung turns his attention back to MC, watches the way her hair swings as she walks, the small smile that curves her lips as she works, and he wonders what she could be thinking about. He wonders if she’s thinking about him.

“Make up your mind soon,” Saeran says softly. “We’ve been done with our ice cream for a while, and we can’t keep sitting here forever.”

Saeyoung stands from the table without looking at Saeran. “I’m gonna do it,” he says, and Saeran cracks a smile.

He takes a few deep breaths as he crosses the dining room, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. How long had it been since he’d asked someone out? Had he ever asked anyone out with actual romantic intentions, and not just as a joke or a ploy? He couldn’t remember. He clears his throat as he approaches the counter, catching MC’s attention. She smiles as she turns toward him, and all thoughts fall from his head.

“Hey! Did you enjoy your sundae?” she asks.

“Oh! Yes! It was delicious. A perfect combination!” Saeyoung gushes, and MC chuckles.

“I’ll have to try it myself one of these days, then.” She smiles at him for a few moments, and when he doesn’t respond, she asks, “Did you need anything else?”

“Ah, um. Well!” Saeyoung fumbles for words, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. MC cocks her head to the side, watching him curiously. He takes another deep breath, and tries again. “Well. I know this is inappropriate to do, and I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable! So feel free to say no! But. If you’d like. I’d, um, I’d really like to take you out to dinner tonight. So you aren’t alone on Valentine’s Day.”

The bright smile that breaks out across MC’s face could light the entire shop. Saeyoung’s heart flutters in his chest.

“I’d love to!” she answers, before quickly reeling her enthusiasm in. “But… it’d be almost impossible to get a last-minute reservation on a night like Valentine’s Day. How about another night?”

Saeyoung grins, cocking an eyebrow at her, ready to tackle the challenge. “I’m very resourceful,” he promises. “If anyone can manage a last-minute dinner reservation on Valentine’s Day, it’s me.” MC laughs, and pulls a napkin from a nearby dispenser to write down her phone number and what time she would get off that afternoon.

“I’ll definitely be impressed if you can manage something tonight,” she says as she hands him the napkin, “but don’t be embarrassed to set the date for another night.”

“I’ll see you tonight.” Saeyoung smiles widely, then returns to the table where Saeran waits for him.

“Told you so,” Saeran comments simply, but Saeyoung pays no mind to the tease. He grabs Saeran by the sleeve and tugs him toward the door.

“Come on, I have arrangements to make!”

The twins go home, and Saeyoung starts his preparations. He calls in every favor he’s owed, and asks for more on top of them. It takes time, negotiation, grovelling, and a healthy dose of teasing being dumped upon him, but he manages to get everything sorted out and ready by the time MC gets off work. He gives her time to get ready after letting her know that their reservations are made, and when she texts him her address he sets off to pick her up.

Saeyoung pulls up to MC’s home in his cheetah-print porsche, wearing his best suit, with a bouquet of red roses in his arms, and the surprised laughter that rings from her lips when she opens the door is worth every penny and every ounce of effort he’d spent. She runs back inside to put the flowers in water and then reemerges, taking Saeyoung's offered hand and following him down the driveway to the car.

“I hope you didn't rent a car this flashy just to impress me,” MC teases.

“Rent?” Saeyoung gasps, affronted. “Are you implying that my precious Purrsche is a lady for hire?”

“Purrsche?” MC asks, laughing with disbelief. As they approach the car, Saeyoung pulls open the passenger side door for MC to get in, while also stroking the vehicle's hood lovingly.

“It's okay, baby. She didn't mean to call you a lady of the night,” he murmurs to the car. “She just needs to get to know you! She'll see what a classy woman you are!”

With a small smile on her face, MC pets the dashboard. “Deepest apologies, Madam Purrsche,” she says, earning her a grin from Saeyoung.

“See?” he says, with a pat to the hood. “You two will be fast friends.”

After ensuring MC is safely inside, Saeyoung closes her door and goes around to the driver's side to climb in as well. As they drive, MC asks questions about what kind of restaurant they’re going to, how far away it is, whether she’d dressed up enough, or too much, and Saeyoung answers them all cryptically. When they reach their destination, sooner than MC had expected, she gazes up at the building Saeyoung leads her toward with a confused furrow to her brow.

“Is… this a restaurant?” she asks, prompting a nervous laugh from Saeyoung.

“Well… not technically,” he answers. “It’s a coffee shop owned by a couple of my friends. They close early in the afternoon, so they said they’d let me borrow it for the night.” He fishes the keys to the shop out of his pocket, unlocking the door and holding it open for MC. The inside of the cafe is decorated with red and pink streamers, heart-shaped balloons coating the ceiling, and vases of vinyl roses on every surface. Just inside the door waits a blond boy in an ill-fitted suit, two menus in his hand.

“Welcome to Saeyoung’s Valentine Bistro!” the boy greets. “My name is Yoosung, and I’ll be your server tonight. I'm really glad you're real, because when Saeyoung asked me to do this, I thought he might be pranking me!”

“Yoosung!” Saeyoung hisses, but MC laughs nonetheless.

“A pleasure to meet you, Yoosung,” she greets, bowing to him slightly.

“You too! Let me show you to your table.”

Most of the tables in the cafe had been cleared away, lined up against the walls, leaving only one table in the center of the dining room. Yoosung leads the pair to this lone table and sits them down, leaving them with the menus as he heads off to fetch their drinks.

“All dishes prepared fresh by Chef Saeran,” MC reads from the top of the menu, a smile on her lips. “Let me guess, your brother?”

“Clever girl!” Saeyoung praises. “Believe it or not, he was much harder to wrangle into this than anyone else.”

“Saeyoung… this is beautiful,” MC marvels, gazing around the redecorated coffee shop. “You really put all of this together just this afternoon?”

“I told you I was resourceful.” Saeyoung smiles at her, watching the wonder on her face as she takes it all in. Her smile falls slightly as she turns back to him.

“But… why?” she asks, and anxiety starts to claw at Saeyoung's throat. Had he gone too big too fast? Was his grand romantic gesture too much for her? Did she not believe he had really accomplished it in one afternoon, and now she thought he was stalking her? Dozens of possibilities race through his mind in a matter of seconds. The disappointment must show on his face, because she quickly rephrases. “I mean! It's wonderful! I just don't understand… why you'd go through so much trouble for someone you just met.”

Saeyoung’s expression softens into a smile, and he reaches across the table to take her hand. “I can't really explain it,” he says sheepishly. “There was just something about talking to you that felt… right.” MC mirrors his smile, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of his palm. “For a long time I wasn't allowed to have any emotional attachments because of my job, so I don't have a lot of experience in dating. But something told me that if I didn't go all out for you, I'd regret it.”

A blush rises to MC's cheeks, and she breaks eye contact to take one last glance around the cafe. “Well, this is definitely all out,” she says with a laugh. Returning her gaze to Saeyoung, she flashes him a playful smile. “You could have taken me to Burger King and I would have been impressed.”

Saeyoung laughs, relief lifting the weight from his shoulders. “I'll remember that... for next time?” he says, his voice hopeful.

And when MC smiles, Saeyoung's world lights up.

“I can't wait.”

[fanficnewbie]

“Fighting for Forever” - Chapter Four - Open Heart FanFic

This is my first story/series. The first 5 chapters are adaptations from the first 4 parts of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey” series with permission from @alwaysmychoices and then I continue my own original work in chapters 6-14.

I start this adapted storyline during Chapter 15 of the original OH series. There is a bit of AU, where I play around with the storyline a bit and insert two days between MC leaving the country club and returning to her apartment to find Landry packing. Some situations have been changed to keep with the original vision of @alwaysmychoices and make the story work in the direction I wanted it to go. However, I find my way back to the original in Chapters 6-8 and then move on past the ending of Book One during chapters 9-14.

My MC is female, Francesca Houseman, who has only had eyes for Ethan Ramsey from day one.

FULL SERIES

Chapter Four: “In the Still of the Night” Part 2 (adapted from “Unspoken”)

5793 words

This entry returns to Chapter 15 expanding on the imagined world in our previous three chapters and retelling the scene when MC is back at Ethan’s apartment to ask for help at her Ethics Hearing.

(NSFW)

When they entered his apartment, Francesca released Jenner from his leash and watched as he jumped on the couch, eagerly waiting for her to join him for another snuggle session. She smiled softly at him, scratched under his chin and placed a kiss on his forehead, before leaving their potential snuggles to talk to Ethan.

He was already reaching for the decanter when Francesca joined him, silently watching as he poured out a glass of scotch.

“Scotch or something else?” Ethan was prepared to list every single drink he had in his arsenal, full of nervous energy, but she stopped him with a nod towards the decanter.

“That looks expensive, so I’m sure it’ll do the trick.” The irony struck her that just hours earlier she had told him she’d never drink again. She rationalized that this situation warranted an exemption.

They both took a sip and allowed the warmth to linger in their chest before speaking again, waiting for the liquid courage to set in. Unsurprisingly, it was Francesca who made the first move.

“I said one,” Francesca eyed her drink, “I’ll assume we don’t have much time before our glasses are empty, so we better start talking.”

Ethan paused and considered all of the strategies he could take. His fear of losing her paralyzed him, but his fear of hurting her spurred him to scrutinize everything. He’d never been in this place before and his frame of reference was limited. 

“You didn’t tell me about the ethics investigation,” he blurted out, amazed by how much it hurt that she’d kept that from him.

“You weren’t there for me to tell,” Francesca asserted.

Ethan grimaced.

“Did you go to Rafael or Bryce for advice?” He didn’t recognize the jealousy in his tone.

“Excuse me?” Francesca flushed with indignation, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Was there somebody else you turned to in my absence?” Ethan persisted, horrified by her potential answer.

“You don’t get to ask a question like that,” Francesca shook her head, frustrated, “Don’t act like I haven’t given you far more opportunities than I’ve given anyone else.”

“So you’ve given others opportunities?” Ethan was well aware that he was in no position to be so upset. He knew that she was right. If he hadn’t been bound by his own code, he could have been with her a long time ago. Francesca had no responsibility to stay loyal to a nonexistent relationship. She was free to do whatever – and whomever – she wanted, but the idea of it killed him.

Francesca knew that he had no entitlement to information about her life with other men. Yet, as much as it angered her that he was even daring to ask, there was still a large part of her that needed him to know that this entire time she had only wanted him. She was wholly irritated by his misplaced jealousy and arrogance, but she also saw it as a small signal to the depth of his true feelings. Even so, she needed to challenge him.

“For the record, Rafael was overcoming major surgery so, no, I didn’t feel it was the right time to bother him with my personal issues. And, I’ve already explained my relationship with Bryce – I actually go to him for advice a lot, he’s a great listener.” Francesca took a large gulp of her scotch, begging it to fuel her, “So enough with the bullshit jealous act. You had your chance. When we almost slept together in Miami, who stopped it? It sure as hell wasn’t me.”

“Because I’m your boss! It’s not ethical!” Ethan exclaimed.

Francesca rolled her eyes, tired of his nonsense excuses, “Well, I’m already facing an ethics hearing, so clearly, I’m deficient in that area – sorry I can’t live up to your high standards.”

“Francesca”, he looked at her, annoyed she was purposely misinterpreting his words, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Francesca diverted her gaze, biting on her lower lip as she raked her fingers through her curly hair, letting it fall around haphazardly her shoulders, Ethan was caught off guard by how vulnerable she seemed, and how impassioned and upset she was. She walked away from him, pacing his living room floor and occasionally glanced over at him as if planning her defense.

“I know you didn’t,” Francesca finally admitted with a deep sigh, “But most of the time I don’t know what I know about you. Today, I felt close to you. Today was great,” Francesca closed her eyes as if trying to relive their carefree afternoon, “But then you try to pull away and shut me out. Yet I know you trust me or you wouldn’t have brought me in on Naveen’s case. I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to be your friend if you won’t let me in?”

“I do consider you a friend…and I brought you in on a case I failed at,” Ethan gulped at his drink as if the smooth scotch could dull the nagging failure that he carried every day. “And I told you why I left Edenbrook Francesca, I’m not the doctor we both thought I was,” Ethan’s voice cracked.

“Don’t say that,” Francesca stepped towards him instinctively.

“It’s true,” Ethan drained his scotch, returning the glass to the table as he sat in a nearby armchair.

“It’s not true,” Francesca was by his side now, surprised by her own proximity to him, her frustration giving way to his vulnerability and defeat. “That’s bullshit. You are the doctor I thought you were and more. You’ve saved thousands of patients, Ethan. They’re still living their lives because of you.”

“I couldn’t save Delores. I couldn’t save Naveen. I-I…” Ethan’s hand reached for his empty glass, but Francesca pushed it away before he could, taking his hand in hers.

“You didn’t save them, but you loved them,” Francesca stared deep into his eyes as if willing him to believe her, “You stayed up all night with baby Ethan, and he has a full life because someone loved him. You gave Delores and Naveen a choice, and when they picked their diagnosis over their treatment, you respected it. That’s why you’re the best doctor I know. You respect your patients and you never stop caring about them.” 

Francesca paused, tears welling in her eyes as she added, “I was trying to be like you when I helped Mrs. Martinez.  She was willing to choose her diagnosis over 10 more years of treatment. I thought that I could help her by giving her those meds and allowing her to live the life she had always dreamed of. If I’d taken no for an answer or ignored how she felt, I wouldn’t have endangered her life. She’d be alive and I wouldn’t be facing a revoked medical license.” Francesca stopped, realizing the truth even while facing the consequence, “But she’d be miserable, and for that reason, I’d still do it all over again.”

Ethan’s wiped a tear from her cheek, “That was the stupidest and kindest thing you ever did, Rookie.”

Francesca looked up at him, warmed at the sound of her nickname.

“You’re a good doctor, Francesca, I’m not even sure if I would be brave enough to help Mrs. Martinez in the way you did.”

Francesca nodded slowly and mulled over her words before saying, “You told me to examine my mistakes, learn from them, and let go. Instead, I lost one of my best friends and risked my entire career.” Francesca laughed at herself, but her chuckle was laced in bitterness.

“You do enjoy the dramatics,” Ethan conceded, earning a playful glare.

A peaceful lull formed in the storm of their fight and momentarily reminded them of what they were fighting for in the first place. How did they make everything seem okay again, even when it clearly wasn’t?

“I didn’t know if I would ever be able to move on when you left,” Francesca admitted carefully, “For a cold son of a bitch, you sure as hell can make people care about you.”

“I tried very hard to make you stop caring about me, but you were always stubborn,” he retorted.

“You’re right,” Francesca nodded thoughtfully, “Taking me with you to the conference in Miami, including me on Dr. Banjeri’s case, inviting me to your favorite coffee shop, teaching me the beauty of the opera… all of that was a ploy to… push me away? I suppose you were playing the long game…” She looked back at him, eyes glaring with amusement.

Ethan laughed, amazed by how much he enjoyed when she made fun of him, “You forgot that I also introduced you to my dog.”

“Please, Jenner is basically my dog now,” Francesca smiled at the puppy, now watching them intently.

They settled into another comfortable silence as the discord seemed to slip away. They both knew they hadn’t resolved anything and more fights were waiting, but they couldn’t manage to break the comfort they felt in each other, not yet.

Finally, after a long time, Francesca spoke. She hesitated with her words, unsure that she even wanted to break the unsteady truce, but after a beat, she forced herself to ask, “Will you testify for me?”

Ethan looked surprised, and before he could answer, Francesca continued emphatically, “You know I’m a good doctor! You know you could help me.“

“Francesca,” Ethan stopped her, “I can’t.”

Francesca let out a defeated sigh, her worst fears confirmed. After everything they’d done and said, he was still too damaged, too deficient to be who she needed him to be. She stood slowly and moved towards the window as she processed his latest rejection. Her hope vanished and she chastised herself for accepting his invitation to begin with. Nothing was going to change.

Beneath her, Boston hummed with electricity and excitement. There was an entire world down there, oblivious to what was happening in Ethan’s apartment. They had no idea that Francesca Houseman’s life was falling apart.

She hugged herself, trying to receive the comfort he couldn’t offer. “Why are you being so cold? What happened to you? I came to Edenbrook to learn from the Ethan Ramsey.”

Ethan shook his head. “This is the Ethan Ramsey. I’m the man who can save anyone except the people he gives a damn about. Not Dolores. Not Naveen. And not you.”

She turned to face him, his words were now meaningless but hers were soft and defiant. “Maybe you quit. But you taught me not to. So I’m fighting back, with or without you.”

Ethan retrieved both of their glasses to refill them, he walked back to the window and held out one for her, his voice low and discouraged, “Don’t you think I’d help you if I could? I already told Harper I wanted to testify for you and she refused. She says I’m too biased, and you know what? She’s right. So stop asking. I don’t work there, and soon neither will you.”

He raised his glass in a toast, “To early retirement, likely for both of us.” Ethan clinked her glass with a sad nod, and the Scotch settled into a familiar burn in his chest.

Francesca stood there, slightly numb, she took a sip but tasted nothing. Then a stunning realization dawned on her. The thing she was so angry at him for - the idea that he was too self-absorbed, too defective to acknowledge and return the support she had so freely given him for so long … she had been wrong.

She gazed up at him, her eyes so full of wonderment that they momentarily distracted him, “You tried without me asking…” Her whispered voice was tinged with sadness. “I thought you had written me off as a lost cause.

He was surprised at her response, “Of course I hadn’t.” He took another sip and put his drink down, his voice bitter as he processed his failures, “You’re just the latest person I tried to save and failed.” 

Francesca shook her head and putting her drink next to his, placed a hand on his cheek as she moved his face to look at her, “Stop saying that.” 

She looked at him, seeing another angle of the kaleidoscope. He had called Chief Emery and tried to help her, he hadn’t let her go. Full of self-loathing, his eyes met hers and he asked again what was so painfully obvious to him, “Don’t you think I’d help you if I could? 

Even in his lowest moment, his affection for her was laid bare. She was buoyed by this revelation and instinctively leaned towards him.

He smelled the lingering notes of his body wash on her skin, he was close enough that he could watch her chest rise and fall with her breath. Her lips still shiny with scotch, parted as she gazed up at him, and Ethan’s breath caught as he realized she was…so beautiful…and so close.

He leaned closer, so that Francesca felt the heat of his breath on her skin. Her senses were overwhelmed with him…  

And then he was against her, their proximity so near that she only had to lean the tiniest bit more to brush her lips across his. They were soft and warm and…

And they collided. His kiss consumed her. He tasted like scotch and coffee and Ethan. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. He could feel her hammering heart against his chest. His hands were on her, his fingertips digging into her hips as he tugged her as close as he could possibly have her. Any space was too much. He’d never needed anyone like he needed her at this moment.

Ethan effortlessly lifted her, guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist as he pressed her against the window. The cool glass contrasted the heat between the two of them, and her lips left his to giggle at their eagerness before she was lost in him once more.

His hands were everywhere, her waist, her hips, her ass, her thighs, her breasts. It was as if he felt the need to explore and claim every inch of her body, to treasure it with his appreciative touch.

“Ethan,” Francesca moaned softly, her hands left his hair to pull at his sweater. Ethan pulled away just long enough for her to take it off, not caring where the garment fell when she threw it over his shoulder.

Ethan’s hands were already on her waist, the fabric of her t-shirt wrinkling beneath his touch. His shirt. Ethan felt a swell of pride as he remembered how sexy it was when she confidently walked out in it that morning, and he remained convinced that it was the hottest thing she’d ever worn. The grey cotton began to ride up her body as he moved his hands up her torso, and he victoriously pulled it over her head and threw it on the ground beneath him. Her exposed skin was so warm against his hands, and the lace of her black bra tickled his skin as she pressed herself back to him.

Ethan moved from the window, still holding onto her tight as he led her to his living room, and placed her gently on his couch – Jenner jumped out the way and sensing something was up, walked out of the room. Slowly untangling her legs from his waist, her fingers fumbled for his belt, and he laughed softly at her attempts to quickly remove it.

Biting on her lower lip, Ethan pulled away from her kiss, enjoying the sweet sound of her moan, and as he gazed down at her, decided it was undoubtedly the best sight he’d ever seen. She was desperate for his touch, desperate for him.

Ethan’s breath stopped as he suddenly remembered why he hadn’t seen this sight since Miami, why he’d stopped it then… and why he had to stop it now.

Francesca saw the change in his eyes and her stomach lurched as panic settled in. “Ethan…” she whispered, her hands gripped his arms as she started to sit up to look at him better. No, no, he couldn’t… not again, she thought to herself.

“Francesca,” Ethan’s voice was ragged, full of resignation and disappointment, and it was a sucker punch to Francesca, “I can’t…”

Francesca’s eyes closed, her face in a grimace as she fell back to the couch, covering her head with her arm as the sting of rejection replaced the carefree joy she’d felt only moments before. Even now, miles from Edenbrook, he still didn’t want her. Tears burned at her eyes, but she willed them away.

Ethan’s hand hovered over her hair, desperately wanting to comfort her, but instead he stepped back, knowing it would only do more harm than good to even try. He left the couch, returned to his glass of scotch and downed it as he waited with bated breath for her reaction. She was eerily quiet, as she collected her thoughts and her emotions wreaked havoc.

What’s wrong with me? Francesca’s thoughts were unstoppable, cutting through every attempt to silence them as they taunted her with rejection and humiliation. Why hadn’t she learned to stop hoping for Dr. Ramsey?

Before she knew what she was doing, Francesca grabbed the couch pillow from behind her head and hurled it at Ethan. The pillow stunned him but bounced off easily, leaving him shocked and confused.

“Fuck you, Ethan Ramsey!” Francesca was up now, looking for her shirt so that she could stop feeling so exposed and vulnerable, but when she saw it on the floor, she was reminded that it was his shirt, not hers, and refused to touch it.

“Excuse me?” Ethan asked, expecting her anger but not her venom.

“You heard me. Fuck. You.” Francesca repeated, the words flowing off her tongue with such ease and stinging him with the emphasis she put on each syllable.

“Francesca, you know why we can’t,” Ethan began, but she stopped him before he could deliver the same speech.

“Don’t you dare,” Francesca shook her head, the tears returned and she had lost her strength to will them away as she walked closer to confront him, “Don’t you dare tell me that you can’t betray your moral code. You can’t do this, Ethan. You can’t pull me close just so you can push me away.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” Ethan was offended at the accusation and incredulous that she still didn’t understand his motives, “I’m putting you first. I’m putting your career first!” He couldn’t fathom not making that point explicit.

“No, you’re not! That’s what you’re telling yourself, but that’s not what’s happening!” Francesca jabbed a finger at his still bare chest, “You’re afraid of intimacy, so you’re searching for every possible excuse to keep me at arm’s length. You can’t have it both ways, Ethan,” Francesca paused when she heard her voice crack, trying desperately to sum up the strength to continue her speech, and the sight made Ethan shrink.

“Is it some stupid test to prove your masculinity? To know that I want you and to make me beg for it just so you can prove your worth and then cast me aside?”

“No, of course not,” Ethan breathed, shocked she could even think such a thing. He instinctively placed his hands on her shoulders as she wiped her tears, “You’re much more than that to me, Francesca.”

Francesca pulled out of his grasp, “You can’t just play with me when you’re bored and drop me when you want to. That’s not fair.”

“I’ve never meant to do that,” Ethan had never been so desperate to make someone believe him. She had to know the truth. She had to know that she was everything to him.

“Don’t do this, Ethan.” Her voice was a warning, “There is no longer a fucking moral code. You’re not my boss anymore, hell I’m not even an intern right now.” Francesca wiped at another tear that slid down her cheek, betrayed by her own emotional response, “The only thing keeping you away from me is you. At least be honest with that.”

He stopped and stared at her as the words played over and over again in Ethan’s head. You’re not my boss anymore, formed a soundtrack to his epiphany. He stood rooted to the floor, processing the obvious truth and struggling to understand how he had failed to recognize it before. He could only surmise that his identity was so defined by his role at the hospital, that even more than a week after leaving, he hadn’t fully been able to let it go. 

“I’m not your boss anymore…” Ethan voiced his revelation, and though she was furious with him, it made her heart skip a beat when Francesca searched his shocked expression and realized he had honestly never considered the full change in their dynamic. 

Ethan looked at her tear-stained face searching his and stepped forward, covering the distance that separated them in an instant. His hands cupped her cheek as he leaned his forehead to hers, meeting her eyes as she felt the comforting warmth of his breath on her skin. 

He was finally free.

“I’m so sorry. You’re right, of course, you’re right. And I do want you. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”

Francesca’s lips parted in a surprised gasp and she stared up at him, trying to prove to herself that she’d actually heard him correctly. Then recognizing the sudden and complete change in his demeanor she responded, “I’m right here, nothing is stopping us anymore.”

He kissed her. A deep, bruising kiss that held his emotions of months and months of waiting and pain and self-denial. As he lost himself in her touch, she knew that this time, he was hers.

Ethan started to undo her jeans, his hands skimming her skin he helped her out of them. Once she was down to her underwear and bra, he pulled her back to him, their bodies so close that they practically breathed as one. He slid his hands down to her thighs and lifted her so that her legs wrapped around him once more, welcoming him closer as he renewed his kisses. Her hand slid through his hair as he carried her. Close wasn’t close enough for either of them, and Ethan laughed softly into her lips when Francesca tightened her grip on him as he made his way to the bedroom.

Once there she pulled on his lower lip and whispered, “Let me down…”

Ethan begrudgingly allowed her to unwrap her legs from his body, and gently put her down on the floor without daring to break their kiss.

He felt her smirk against his lips as she unzipped his pants and toyed with the waistband of his boxers. Ethan’s muscles froze as he felt her hand so tantalizingly close. She relished the effect she had on him as she slowly pushed his clothes down and brushed her fingertips along his stiffened member before she wrapped her hand completely around him and gently stroked.

“Francesca…” Ethan’s voice was breathless and Francesca smiled with pride.

“Yes?” She raised an eyebrow, licking her lips as if offering an invitation.

He pulled her in for another kiss and then moved her hand from him. He wanted to make this all about her. He started kissing his way downward, his lips brushed the rise of her breasts, his stubble scratched at her skin, sending a pleasant shiver up her spine.

She giggled, “Your stubble tickles.”

Ethan rubbed his chin, smiling ruefully, “I should shave.”

Francesca’s eyes playfully narrowed as she insisted, “Don’t you dare. I like it”

Their lips met again as Ethan stood and guided her to his bed, moving her until she was against the back of his mattress. She looked at him seductively standing in her black lace bra and panties.

“What are you planning on doing with me now that our clothes are out of the way?”

He grinned as he pushed her softly so she fell back onto the bed. Her lustful eyes locked on him, her arms waiting to pull him to her, to have him close again. He leaned over her, trailing a thumb over her cheek, resting it on her lips. She caught it between her teeth, thrilled at the hungry way he looked at her. 

“What do you want me to do with you, Francesca?”

She released his thumb, “Come to bed, right now.”

Ethan considered her invitation and then to her surprise, whispered, “Not yet…”

Francesca’s expression of exasperation made him chuckle.

“Patience is a virtue, Dr. Houseman, and I want us to remember every single moment of this…” 

Ethan’s lips grazed her shoulder, his hands lifting her just enough to unclasp her black bra. Francesca shrugged out of it, goosebumps forming on her skin as the cold air washed over her. Ethan’s tender kisses moved across her collarbone and paused on her neck when he found a spot that made her squirm before he moved down her chest.

His appraising eye marveled at her body as his hands roamed her curves, beginning at her hips until they reached her breasts, meeting his mouth there. He cupped and tenderly massaged one breast while he used his tongue to caress the other, teasing until his lips captured her stiffened nipple. Her body arched in response and he could feel his own body reacting to her perfect, perfect moan…

“Ethan…” Francesca was growing impatient, hands in his hair, her desperation to feel him heightened.

But once more, he whispered, “Patience…”

His mouth began to move lower, he appreciated each inch of her skin as he navigated her torso. His tantalizingly scratchy kisses make her tingle wherever his lips met her skin, causing her to gasp and giggle. 

Ethan revered her body, retreating lower and spreading her legs as he approached her apex. He lavished his attention on her inner thighs, kissing and nibbling as the woman beneath him writhed in delight.

“Please…” her whisper was hoarse with desire, and finally, Ethan relented.

With his thumbs hooked on either side of her panties, Ethan’s kiss diverted from her thigh and gently met the edges of the thin fabric. He kissed along her lace seams, hinting at what was to come. Francesca bit her lip, still partially astonished that she was finally with Ethan like this and that he was touching her there. It made her stomach flip as she watched him. 

Taking his sweet time, he peeled off her panties and placed a long, lazy lick along the spot she craved him the most. His tongue circled her nub as he appreciated her sweet taste. Her hips bucked against his mouth, her fingers tugging on his hair as she wordlessly begged for friction and pressure. Ethan delivered, his adept fingers slid inside of her and he watched as she fell apart when he curled it to brush against her secret spot, “Oh my god, oh my god, Ethan please...”

Francesca’s eyes moistened as she rose to her peak and he could feel it in her body before she made any sound – the pink flush to her skin, her writhing beneath his tongue, the desperation in her bated breath, her muscles tensing around his fingers. Her breath caught as she approached her climax, and Ethan watched her in awe, catching her gaze as she completely lost control.

“E-Ethan,” she pleaded, gasping for breath... “Oh god yes!”

Francesca shuddered and cried out as her orgasm lit her body on fire, each nerve ending consumed in euphoric heat. For several moments she could not think or move, only feel the pleasure as it raged through her body. Slowly coming down from her peak, a satisfied smile spread across her face as she whispered, “Ethan. Freaking. Ramsey…” His name now forever a chant of indulgence.

“Jonah, actually,” Ethan smirked, moving up to look at her, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion, “My name is Ethan Jonah Ramsey, though I suppose ‘Freaking’ works as well.”

Her laughter was muted by his kiss, full of heat and promise and she was instantly lost again in his touch – in him. Their fingers intertwined as Ethan moved over her, effortlessly shifting her farther onto the bed as he knelt between her legs. She waited with obvious desperation, wanting him as badly as he wanted her, and neither could defer any longer. His patience had run out.

He pushed his length along her tight dampness, slowly gaining entry “Oh my god, Ethan!” Francesca gasped as, after months of pining and waiting, they finally connected. Ethan sank deeper into her, groaning at how tightly her moist heat enveloped him, how perfectly they fit together, overwhelmed by how close they were. He sucked in his breath and exhaled her name in a voice laced with desire, “Francesca, my god.” He was no stranger to sex but the raw intimacy of this moment was new to him, and it shook him to his core. Her fingertips brushed along his cheek, as she met his lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

Ethan’s pace started slow and careful, each thrust timed to make Francesca think she couldn’t wait any longer and then he reignited her body when he returned to her. Her nails dug into his broad shoulders and skimmed along his skin, gripping his ass when his pace quickened.

The pleasure mounted in Francesca’s hips as he delivered each deep, toe-curling push. His mouth claimed hers, his tongue fighting for dominance over hers as her body flushed with delight.

“Ethan, I’m so close...I’m...” she whimpered against his lips but didn’t need to articulate further as she lost her breath, overwhelmed with his touch. He carefully adjusted his grip on her thighs, his thumbs leaving bruises along her skin, and he used the new leverage to drive deeper into her. Each movement was harder and more urgent than before and his lips were selfish as he continued to kiss every inch of her body that he could reach, needing to taste her, to feel her and to know that she was his.

Francesca’s skin burned with desire, unable to hold on as she started to dissolve into her climax. She was so, so close, she was about to... Francesca screamed out Ethan's name and completely shattered against him, another orgasm fiercely taking over her body.

He watched her react to his touch, felt her tighten around him, heard her cries of ecstasy - and it was all too much - “Francesca,” Ethan moaned her name as if it were sacred praise and gave all of himself to her. Stunned by the magnitude and intensity of his climax, Ethan’s forehead fell to her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, his body sated in warm bliss.

For a moment, they just stayed like that, enjoying their gratification, enjoying each other.

Eventually, he moved out of her and pulled her beside him. Francesca tangled herself around his body and tucked her head in his chest as she listened to the thump of his heartbeat.

“We just had sex…” Francesca murmured, sounding astounded. “and it was, holy shit!” She let out a single chuckle, looking as if she couldn’t believe it.

“We did, and it was” Ethan confirmed, twirling her hair around his finger as he appraised the astounding woman in his arms. How the hell did this happen?

Something in his voice that caused her to look up at him and read his expression as concern. She tried not to panic, “Do you think it was a mistake?”

His eyes moved to hers, urgently reassuring. “No. How could I?” His hand reached for hers as he considered the situation, “But time will tell. Because the truth is, I can’t help but feel like I failed you.”

“How do you mean?” She propped herself up, lacing her fingers with his, less worried but still genuinely perplexed by his confession.

He sighed, wanting her to understand how much he wanted her and feared for her at the same time, “When I first read your application to Edenbrook, I saw the most incredible potential. And then when I met you…”

She reminded him, “You called me a slow...superficial, and an amateur.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, “Yes actually, but still, I knew I’d been right. I knew you had it in you to be a brilliant doctor, if you just had someone to push you and challenge you.” 

He paused, “The way Naveen did for me.” Agitated, he let go of her hand, “But I let you down. I tried not to let myself fall for you…” 

“You didn’t let me down.” her words were firm but he was frustrated. He closed his eyes and then opened them, peering at her. “I did. I wanted to make you the best doctor you could be–” 

She silenced him with a tender kiss, and then took his hand and placed it to her cheek, gently brushing his knuckles with her lips.

Her voice was soft and resolute, “You did. No matter what happens...you did.” 

Ethan studied her, amazed by her sincerity and her sense of clarity. He put his hand back over hers, needing to be with her, “Stay the night.”

Francesca wasn’t sure if his invitation was a command or a question, but she couldn’t dream of leaving his bed either way.

Pretending to think it over, she tried to negotiate, “Only if you finally give me an embarrassing tee shirt to wear tomorrow,” Francesca’s eyes were now full of amusement as she teased him.

Ethan finally confessed, “I may have a secret Turkey Trot t-shirt in the back of my closet,” but his embarrassment was soon forgotten as he watched Francesca’s face light up with excitement.

“I fucking knew it,” she kissed him in victory, her arms looped around his neck. The kiss was long and languid. After they pulled away, Ethan was bothered by another thought, “Are you ready for your hearing?”

It was the last thing she wanted to think about, “I have no idea.” But then she considered, “Will you be there? Even if you can’t testify?”

“Do you want me there?”

With every fiber of her being. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll be there”. Ethan kissed the top of her head, “Just don’t give up, don’t you dare give up.”

He was just about to fall asleep when a small whisper lured him away from slumber.

“Ethan?” Her momentary pause made him think she had drifted off but then her heartfelt plea broke the short silence, “Please don’t leave me…” and there was fear in Francesca’s voice as if she was waiting for him to run away at any moment. The sound wrecked him.

“I won’t,” he whispered, “I promise.”

CHAPTER FIVE

[theroyalweisme]

Say Something (Liam x MC)

Book: Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC (Riley)

Rating: PG 13

Word Count: +1900

Summary: She’s gone... Do you go after her? Or let her be happier on her own?

Author’s Note: Part 9

Wow has it ever been a LONG time since I’ve written this. I’m sorry for making you all wait so long... I hope it was worth it!

Catch up here:

Part 1 Hold On

Part 2 Stay With Me

Part 3 Stay Strong

Part 4 Be There

Part 5 Keep Going

Part 6 Don’t Rush It

Part 7 Don’t Let Go

Part 8 Hate Me

Tagging my lovelies:

@youwontlikewherewewillgo @chrstbll @pens-girl-87 @mfackenthal @mariawalkerwrites @captainkingliam @mrswalkerreynolds @queencatherynerhys @hhiggs @viktoriapetit @ranishajay @topsyturvy-dream @heatherfilliez

-Riley’s POV-

The water lapped gently against the shore as I stared out into the deep abyss.

I wonder what he’s doing right now… My traitorous mind moved to the only face that could still bring tears to my eyes. I wonder if he’s moved on… Who he chose instead of me…

I knew I had no right to have these thoughts and even less right to have the sharp stab of pain that followed them. I left. I couldn’t take any more. I abandoned my rights to care when I abandoned him… them.

My phone buzzed again in my pocket. Sighing, I pulled it out not evening needing to look at the screen to know it was Maxwell. He called at least three times a day. Usually every hour.

“I’m not ready…” I sighed, hitting ignore and shoving the device back into my pocket. My tense muscles began to relax as a familiar presence sat next to me. My head rested gently on Daniel’s shoulder as he joined me in staring at the abyss. Waves continuing to crash against the rocks.

“Tide’s comin’ in…” Daniel mused quietly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I guess it’s inevitable…” I sighed pushing myself up from the rock I was sitting on.

“Ry…” his soft voice brought my gaze to his. “Are you ok?”

“Nope,” I smiled a watery smile, brushing under my eyes with my fingers. “But I think I will be.”

“You could always go back…” He shrugged, standing next to me. My throat caught as a harsh scoff burst forward.

“I don’t think I can, Daniel…” I looked back at the busy streets of the city. “No… I think I need to be here. Anonymous… It’s a lot harder to freak out when no one knows who the hell you are.”

Daniel sighed deeply before pulling me into a tight hug.

“You’re not going to freak out, Ry… Or screw anything up.” He pulled me back from the hug to study my face, my eyes refusing to leave my shoes. “From what you’ve told me he loved you way too much to let that happen.”

“But it did happen, Daniel.” I huffed, tear-filled eyes finally meeting his soft hazel gaze. “All I could do was freak out. I wasn’t me anymore.”

“Ry… You’re not you now,” he brushed a chestnut curl off of my shoulder. “You’re miserable. You’ve been here for a month. You’ve barely eaten… I swear you’ve lost 15 pounds. You’re barely functioning at your job. You just lie on my couch or sit on this beach when you’re not working.”

A sob escaped my throat as he pulled me into a tight embrace, his strong arms holding the tenuous pieces together as I threatened to crumble around him.

“C’mon… my shift starts in half an hour…” He whispered against my hair. “You can sit at the bar and keep me company.”

I nodded slowly, letting him lead me away from the crashing waves.

--

“So then Henry grabbed the piece of Lego and held it up to his head,” Daniel mimicked his son’s actions to me, I could see the small blond boy doing just that. “And Emily started telling him off, right? ‘Henry Michael, don’t you dare…’”

Daniel started giggling before he could even finish the story, causing a smile to cross my own lips.

“He threw the Lego at Em, didn’t he?” I laughed as Daniel nodded emphatically.

“Nailed her right between the eyes!” His arm wrapped tighter around my shoulders as he tapped my forehead. My head tipped back in laughter as he continued to lead me into the bar. “See what you miss when you’re off moping?”

I paused, briefly before stepping into the dimly lit establishment. Feeling a gaze on me, I turned to glance behind me.

“Ry? You ok?” Daniel’s concerned voice broke through my thoughts.

“Y-yeah…” My brows furrowed in confusion, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “Sorry… I just thought…”

“You really are going crazy…” Daniel laughed softly, turning me back towards the bar. “C’mon… let’s get you a drink.”

I nodded softly, tearing my gaze away from the streets as I let him lead me through the door.

-Liam’s POV-

“You’re sure you want to do this, Liam?” Drake studied me closely as I pulled clothes out of my closet and into a small case. “She’s been gone for a month.”

“I have to know, Drake,” I sighed, pausing to rake my fingers through my hair. “I have to find her… Talk to her. Make sure she’s ok.”

Drake shook his head slightly as I zipped the case closed.

“What about court?” His voice was resigned as he followed me out of the apartments I was in. I hadn’t been back to my own apartments since I had found her note. I couldn’t bear it.

“Liam…” Drake’s voice caught me as I left my study, hoping to find Riley before she went off for her walk. “Have you seen MacEwan?”

“I was just off to find her, Drake,” I grinned widely. “She wanted to take a walk through the grounds after her meeting with Adriana, I figured I would join her.”

“Adriana’s looking for her,” Drake’s eyebrows knit together with concern. “She didn’t show up for her appointment.”

My eyes widened, small enough most wouldn’t catch it, but Drake did. Our pace sped up as we moved towards the apartments I shared with Riley. Jonah was still perched outside the door.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed, “Duchess Riley had noted you’d be meeting her at the Beaumont Estate. Should I call for the car?”

Drake’s eyes met mine as we silently communicated between ourselves. We didn’t have time to answer as Maxwell came up behind us. Jonah’s eyes widened as he saw the young Beaumont.

“Hey, guys!” He called joyfully. “I was going to see if Riley wanted to go and get some cronuts!”

I pushed the doors open, ignoring Maxwell completely.

“Riley!” I called, moving from room to room. Living room? Nope… Lights were out… Not in the bathroom either… Closet! Her favourite dress was gone… Along with what she lovingly called her regular clothes…

“Liam…” Drake’s voice called from our bedroom. He stood next to our bed… the sheets pulled tightly across it. His hand gripped a white sheet of paper.

My feet seemed to move on their own accord as I took the page from him. My hands shook as I opened it.

Liam,

I’m sorry.

I can’t do this.

I can’t be your queen.

Please understand.

It’ll be easier for both of us if you could just hate me for this.

-Riley

PS. Please don’t look for me… I won’t be found.

The writing smudged as wet drops fell on the page. A hand, solid, firm, fell onto my shoulder. My glance tore from the page to meet the intense gaze of my best friend.

“She’s gone…” I whispered.

“I know…” He sighed, pressing something into my hands. I looked down at the small object to see her engagement ring. My promise to her. My world.

“Get Bastien,” my voice hardened. “I want her found, Drake.”

“Liam,” Drake’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “What are you going to do about the court?”

“I’m not doing anything,” I nodded, clapping his shoulder. “You are.”

“I am…” he nodded before my words sunk in. “Wait… what?”

“I don’t have anything happening in the coming weeks. Court has disbanded until the social season,” I shrugged. “You shouldn’t have to do anything. And if someone comes looking for me… Distract them.”

“How?!” He demanded, following me down the hallway.

“You’re a smart man, Drake Walker.” I waved at him before running down the steps and into the waiting vehicle. “Figure it out.”

“Damnit, Liam!” He yelled from the doorway. “I’m not a fucking noble!”

Bastien closed the door to the car before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Majesty,” his voice cut through the tension in the vehicle. “You’re sure you don’t want someone else to go in your stead?”

“No, Bastien,” I sighed leaning against the back of the seat. “I need to do this.”

He nodded slowly before pulling out of the driveway and towards the airport.

--

New York was always busy, but somehow she always shone brighter than everything else. I caught sight of her as I turned the corner to head towards the bar we met. I figured that was the best place to start.

My heart leaped into my throat as I saw her. She was tiny… Skin and bones. Her favourite black tank top hanging off of her in an unhealthy way. But that wasn’t the first thing I noticed… Her head was flung back as she laughed deeply at something the man she was with had said.

The man.

She was with.

He was making her laugh. I hadn’t been able to do that since the Homecoming Ball. Since…

Images flashed before my eyes. The ball. Her dress, golden and fit for a queen. The panic. The gun. The sound of the shot going off.

I heard Bastien call my name before I felt him next to me, ushering me onto a bench on the side of the street.

“Breathe, Liam,” he demanded. “Deep breaths… There you go… Keep breathing…”

“Thank you, Bastien…” I nodded as he pressed a bottle of water into my hand.

“You haven’t had a panic attack in a while, Majesty,” Bastien commented under his breath as I took a swig from the bottle. “Are you sure this is a wise choice?”

My eyes narrowed at him as he backed away from me slowly.

“I just need to talk to her, Bastien,” I sighed. “If she won’t take me back in any form… We’ll go home.”

The older man nodded as I rose from the bench.

“Perhaps you should wait outside, Bastien…” his eyes narrowed at me before nodding begrudgingly. I moved swiftly, purposefully, towards the bar. Bastien stood off to the side of the door as I inhaled deeply before pushing my way through the door.

The bar was quiet, only a smattering of people throughout. It was easy to find Riley in the establishment. Her chestnut brown hair pulled into a loose braid down her back. She played with a plate of fries in front of her as she engaged in a conversation with the man behind the bar. The man who led her into the bar.

Taking another deep breath I slowly moved towards the bar. Towards her.

The man manning it saw me first, trying to pull my attention from her.

“Hey, man,” he greeted warmly. “What can I get ya?”

“Whatever she’s having,” I nodded towards Riley, watching for her reaction. Her crystal blue eyes opened in shock as my voice registered. She slowly turned in her seat, our eyes meeting.

“Liam,” she breathed, her beautiful blue eyes welling with tears. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get you back,” I whispered, stepping closer to her.

“But I…” She looked over at the man watching us behind the bar before turning back to me. “I can’t go back, Liam…”

“Can’t go back isn’t won’t go back, Love…” I cooed, rubbing a freed curl between my fingers. “We can work that out… But, Riley… We need to talk.”

She nodded as I pulled out my wallet, handing enough to cover whatever she had been drinking and more to the bartender. I held my hand out to the woman in front of me. She cautiously fit her hand into mine, pulling herself from the bar stool.

“I’ll call you later, Daniel,” she nodded to the bartender before allowing me to lead her out of the bar and into the street.

[nerdlife0612]

Dragon Bound Part 8

Author Note: Reminder – ‘Dragon Bound’ is merely a code name for this work at the current time. Reminder numero dos - for the time being, this is going to be an original work set within a WWE-Paranormal/AU type of setting.

That means original male characters and original female characters as the leads with occasional appearances of already established ‘characters’ (a la Triple H, Stephanie Mc., Roman Reigns, etc).

Since part 7 went short, part 8 is gonna go long… I hope.  Part 8 is going to be a 20 questions continuation as well as a dream world visit to our heroine and ending with some angst/maybe near shenanigans.

Let me know what you think!!

Tag List: @evilangel84 @empress-with-the-crown @misadventuresofathot @thedevilnisworld @bigpixiefoot @littledeadrottinghood @ballins-princess @princess3733 @sugasfatgf

(Uhh I hope I didn’t forget anyone… Lemme know!)

And away we go! --------------------------

Dragon Bound: Part 8 Word Count: 1,842 for the actual story Rating for P. 8: PG13 to start, near NC17 by the end

David grinned ear to ear, clicking his tongue. “Be careful what you wish for…” Flagging the waitress back over for drink refills, he took a moment to pick his first question. After the girl disappeared, David turned his steel eyes back to the woman sitting across from him. “Okay then. We’ll start with something more benign. Favorite color?” Elizabeth snorted. “What?” David snickered, knowing he caught her off guard and enjoying every single minute of it.

“Gotta admit I did not expect that… Uhm… “ She tilted her head to the side and looked out the window. She didn’t want to admit that recently her favorite color had transitioned to steel grey, the color of his eyes. So she picked her second favorite. “Emerald. Yours?”

Putting a finger to his lips, he contemplated his answer very carefully. He had a feeling that she held back. But he was in no mood to do the same. “Right now – topaz.” David found himself extra pleased at the light pink blush that spread across her cheeks and down her neck.  “Favorite kind of food?” And their discussion continued on like this for the remainder of their lunch. David found himself drawn more to Elizabeth than before. She meshed so well with him and yet was still so different. They discovered similar tastes in music and movies. He discovered she is a nerd – anime, gaming… the whole nerdy enchilada. Their tastes in food differed – he was far more into steaks and meat while she leaned more towards fruits and veggies. They both loved sweets. The Dragon smiled, slyly, from his place in David’s core. The Dragon knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he’d find a chink in the boy’s defenses and then they girl would fully be theirs.

Elizabeth looked at her phone and frowned, “Back to work.” David sneered. ‘Man… have to leave her defenseless again…’ Standing up and pushing his chair in, he threw some cash down on the table and offered her his arm again – an offered that she gladly accepted. “Why thank you!” She giggled as they exited the café, only to freeze cold in her tracks. David looked down at her, concern etched on all his features.

Dropping his lips by her ear, he whispered, “What is it?” She shivered involuntarily – both because of what she saw and the effect he had on her just now. Ducking her face into his shoulder, she shook her head no emphatically. Squeezing her shoulder, David forced her to look up at him. “What is it?”

Licking her lips, unsure of what to say she took a breath and whispered, “I saw black eyes in the store window across the street.” David blanched and did all he could to prevent the snarl he felt building from ripping out of his chest. David snaked an arm around her waist, holding her as close as he could.

“Gotcha. Come on. Let’s get back to work. I’ll talk to Hunter about this shit.” He directed her towards the area and subsequent building they were operating out of for this week. But he couldn’t focus on his job. His mind, as well as The Dragon’s, was racing with near murderous thoughts and confused questions about her apparent ability to see or sense things that normal people wouldn’t be able to – and he wasn’t sure what line of thought got him worse than the other. Suddenly, he felt a smaller hand on his chest – and more precisely, on the area of his ribs where his bond mark resided. His whole being stiffened, glaring down at her knowing his eyes was not his own right now. “Remove your hand, little one.”

Elizabeth frowned in worry. “What did I do?” They entered the hotel lobby and he rather forcefully all but carried her to the elevator that just opened up. As the doors closed, she felt his hands on her ass as he jerked her up – growling and grinding his hips against hers. Keeping his hand on the back of her head and neck, he suddenly pinned her against the wall – his lips crashing desperately onto hers. Not knowing what to do with herself let alone how to calm him down, she laid her hands on his chest up near the collar of his short. Groaning at her taste, he gently tilted her head back and deepened the kiss – earning a whimper from his mate. Her whimper was like a blast of cold water. As quickly as he picked her up he sat her back to her feet.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hand, moaning in near agony at the level of emotions he was fighting back all at once. “I’m so sorry, Liz. So fucking sorry.” He all but sobbed. “This whole situation is just so fucking hard to manage and when that God damned Dragon finds a hole – he slips right through it.” She wrapped her arms around his waist while he hooked his around her shoulders.

“It’s okay, David. It’s okay. You took control back before things got… too far. I’d say that’s a win don’t you think?” Half smiling up at him, Elizabeth was trying her best to reassure him. He couldn’t help but to return the half-smile at her. ‘She’s strong enough to handle this. I think. But am I?’ The elevator dinged, indicating they were on the floor that Elizabeth was getting off on, and both of them sighed.

“Like I said, I’ll talk to Hunter about this shortly. He needs to know that something is going on that seems to be of a more nefarious nature. You be careful okay? I’ll see if some of the roster can maybe hang around you or at least be sure they can keep you in eyeshot until I figure this out. “ Elizabeth shot him a look. “Unless you want The Dragon to take control one of these days, you’ll listen to me on this. Please. Besides, I’m pretty sure Steph and Hunter will agree with me on this. I’ll… email you later or something.”

The elevators doors closed again, leaving him by himself. He almost said he’d be by to check on her at her room later but he knew with that as week as he was, that would only spell disaster. Closing his eyes, he licked his lips. Her sweet, clean flavor was still there. But this time, he felt like he could push The Dragon back a little easier. ‘Maybe… maybe these small moments…’ He didn’t know if he should be contemplating what he was but it made sense for him. Once again, the elevator’s noise sounded – indicating he should get off here. As the doors slid open, low and behold whom should he run into – Hunter.

“There’s our star. What’s up young man?” Hunter shook David’s hand. David grimaced at the older gentleman, a look of confusion from Hunter as his reward. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.” Hunter nodded, arms across his chest as David started recounting everything that happened – from the emails last night to the lunch today and even his theory about what happened just moments ago – as they made their way down the hall and prepped to get back to work.

A few hours later, Elizabeth stumbled back to her room. Her feet throbbed because of the senseless shows she picked today. A quick check of her laptop showed that David hadn’t emailed her yet, so taking the opportunity she got into some comfier clothes and collapsed on the bed. The work of an intern was beyond exhausting and she welcomed a quick nap.

>> In her dream, David and her were on the shoreline of the beach, cuddled up together. Sighing, she felt like she was in heaven. Nuzzling his neck where a new mark was, she giggled deliciously as he shuddered and attacked her neck in return. She fingers snap and suddenly, they were in the middle of the Barclays Arena, her dressed in a skin tight leather outfit and him shirtless in his ring gear. She tried to run to him but she felt two cold and icy pale white hands with black nails jerking her arms behind her back. Behind David, she noted a weirdly color being with what could be described as tentacles coming out his head and arms stalking up behind David. She tried to scream but one of the hands covered her mouth, the strength of his hold never ceasing.

“Unh unh unh uhhhh little one…” The wispy voiced declared from beside her. “You areeee ouurrssss. He doesssnn’t desseervee you. Or your powweersss.” The voice drew out as the other creature ran a sword from left to right at a diagonal through David’s chest – through both his heart and his bond mark. It was then she noticed the black eyes of the other beasts.

“More specifically, dear, you belong to the King of Demons… You’ve been warned. Now pass the word.” The first creature tossed her down but not before she noticed the face. And it was truly that of Jeff Hardy but yet not at the same time. As she fell, she woke up screaming and the room shaking.  Doing her best to clear her vision, she grabbed her phone and room key and flip-flops and made a beeline for David’s room. Coming to a skittering stop, her little fist banged on his door like a bass mallet does a drum.

She heard feet shuffling and a voice croak, “I’m coming. I’m coming. Jesus murphy…” David looked out the peephole to see a very disheveled, very tore up Elizabeth. The Dragon growled to life and in a flash, he threw the door open and scooped her up, tripping backwards a bit as he closed the door. “Hey, hey. H-hey. It’s okay.” He tried to soothe the shaking form in his arms, kissing her temple several times. She pulled back for a second, hers clamped shut, obviously trying to compose herself. But when she opened her eyes, he was no longer confronted with her typical icy blues.

Her eyes were now the color of blood - crimson surrounding a black pupil to be exact.

“What the hell…” David whispered and for the first time this entire day The Dragon was speechless as well. Both licked their lips as they looked at their mate.

“I don’t know but… but I….”

“You what?” David’s voiced dipped low, his growing arousal becoming more evident. If she said what he feared was next, he wasn’t sure that he nor The Dragon would be able to stop.  Her lips slammed on his and her first found purchased in his hair. Kissing her way to his earlobe, she bit down – a little harder than she thought she did but he didn’t care. His hips bucked up into hers – both of them groaning.

“I want you.” She spoke lazily against his ear causing his eyes to roll up into the back of his head.  He knew he was doomed. But, oh man, what a way to go….

------------------------------- Author’s notes: Well, I hope this makes up for the short as fuck chapter two days ago. Haha. Haven’t decided if the next one is going to be the real smut or if it’s merely going to be shenanigan-type stuff and save the real shit for later. Guess you gotta wait and see!! TEEHEE!

[littlestmedic]

Ok, I am feeling angsty: Reiner's route, the rest of the Council finds ou about MC and the WQ sharing a soul and are like "maybe we should kill the girl so the WQ either dies for good or gets considerably weaker" (except Quen Ishara and Reiner, of course).

Sure my friend. This one took a long time to get to too, but I’m sad tonight so as soon as I sat down to work on it, it just flew out. This is super angsty. There is no happy ending here at all.  If y’all are interested in what I listened to whilst writing, here you go. Just on a loop. Over and over again.

Words: 1091Rating: T, probably.Pairing: Reiner/Your characterWarnings: Major character death. 

“It is the decision of this Council that this girl, [YC],who looks so like the woman who near enslaved us all, should be put to death. Forthe good of the realm.”

Reiner shouts No!louder than anyone would have thought possible. Louder than [YC] had everthought she would hear him shout. The rest of the Council look at him, but they don’t change their commands.Ishara has a sorrowful expression that [YC] knows would look just the same onIseul’s own pristine face.

[YC] kicks against their holds, unconcerned for her ownlife, but her heart breaking as she sees the look on Reiner’s face. He is beingheld back himself by Council guards, and though her touch is clearly gentle,Ishara holds him back too.

“The decision has been made, Lord Wolfson. This is the onlypossible way.”

[YC] feels tears stream down her face, and a pressure at theback of her mind that has become all too familiar in these past weeks. Shefeels the Witch Queen before she hears her, a snide little voice that overcomesher bindings with little difficulty.

“Take off the ring,girl. You can stop this. We can stopthis. Let me be free.”

“No…” [YC] sobs, to both the Council and the unseen tormentor.Her struggles against the Council guards have eased somewhat, the woman unableto fight both the Witch Queen and the Council guards. A war on two fronts istoo hard. She sobs again, reaching an arm out for Reiner, and he strugglesagainst the guards holding him, his face torn in two.

“[YC]!” he shouts, and Ishara closes her eyes in regret. Sheis the only who voted against this plan. The only one who believed there couldbe a way out of this mess without blood—the blood of the girl who fell into aworld she didn’t belong—and argued so emphatically in your favour.

“They think this willkill me. It shall kill you, sweetthing, but not me. I am eternal. And oh, I think it would save me the troubleof finishing sweet Lord Reiner.”[YC] feels the twist of satisfied glee that isn’t her own in the pit of herstomach, knowing that it is because Reiner has a sword against his neck now,the only thing stopping him from throwing those guards away and reaching her.His arm is stretched out towards her, and she is hardly aware of anything butthe desperation in his eyes as the guards overpower her once more to take herto the scaffold, where the headsman stands.

There is a crowd waiting already. Still, Queen Ishara ismaking her pleas, her beautiful face contorted into flashes of sorrow and ragethat still look more graceful than anything ever could.

“Kill her!”

“Kill the Witch Queen!”

The crowd doesn’t know,[YC] realises, and they do not even consider why Lord Reiner fights sodesperately to reach the woman who, for all the crowd knows, murdered his family.They do not even consider why [YC] shrieks in pain that is nothing to do withthe rough hands on her wrists, and more to do with the mounting pressure behindher eyes.

“LET ME FREE.”

The shout is a storm inside her skull. She feels a trickleof blood from her nose drip onto the wooden steps of the scaffold, and shestops fighting. They haul her towards the headsman, her hands bound, and behindthem Reiner is shouting, near screaming—

“Please, you don’tunderstand! She’s innocent, she is not the Witch Queen, she is my beloved,please, please! I beg of you!”

--And all of it is ignored, and [YC] is forced onto thewooden scaffold as Reiner howls his grief, and Ishara screams her outrage, andthe Witch Queen inside her skull bellows in near bestial fashion.

“Stupid girl! This isfor nothing! I will return!”

And the crowd is baying, hungry for blood, and the headsmanslips the cloth over her head…

“[YC], my love, please, fight! Run! Gods above, run!”

“LET. ME. BE. FREE.”

“… We, the Council, do sentence this woman to death…”

“KILL HER! KILL THE WITCH QUEEN!”

“FOOLISH INSECT!USELESS WORM! DISGUSTING HARLOT!”

…And [YC] can only think of a few things, bubbles of thoughtabove the baying of the crowd and the screaming of the Witch Queen; only of howReiner’s ring should go back to him. Only of how she hopes someone tells therest of her newfound family how much she loves them, despite how short a timeshe’s known them.

“For the Witch Queen must be prevented from returning, and thespill of innocent blood is a price that must be paid…”

“Stop, stop it all, this need not end in blood—! FellowCouncillors, please!”

“… And henceforth, she shall be executed. Her crimes beforgiven in this noble imprisonment of the Witch Queen, once and for all…”

“��� NEVER CONTAINED, NEVER STOPPED! IDIOTS, FOOLS! I DO NOT END LIKE THIS…!”

[YC] feels herself forced down into a kneel. She hears thetoo-familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed, and the quietening of thecrowd. The Witch Queen quietens, and the only thing [YC] can hear now—the onlything that occupies her thoughts—is the soft sound of Reiner’s agonised sobs.

And then—a whoosh and—

Black.

They say, that when the girl who looked like the Witch Queenwas beheaded, that Lord Reiner lost his mind. That when the guards let him go,he slumped to the ground, and pounded his fists on the cobbled floor, and howled, and the beautiful Queen Isharawept with him too, her serene face marred with tears as she pointed an accusingfinger at the Councils and called them murderers, with no thought to her own position.

They say, that when the girl who looked like the Witch Queenwas beheaded, Lord Reiner lost his light. That Lord Reiner lost his soul.

And they say, the girl who looked like the WitchQueen returned… And this time, she was found by the Generals, by Helena Klein and Lennox Arnold, who pushedthe broken, wandering spirit of the True Queen into her battered and brokenbody through rituals untold…

They say that Lord Reiner simply smiled when she returned tofinish what she had started.

That when she pressed the blade into his chest with noresistance, he simply crinkled his face, and cupped the Witch Queen’s owndelicate features with his huge hands, and he whispered;

“I knew you’d be back.”

[elvendara]

OK BUT WHAT IF WERECAT MC COULDN'T EAT CREAM LIKE IT GAVE HER A SICK STOMACH BUT SHE EATS IT ANYWAY CUS IT'S WORTH IT .

Why do I always make Yoosung the center of everything? I don’t know! But he is such a caring loving person!

“Youknow you’re going to regret that.” Saeyoung eyes MC’s spoonful of ice cream,hovering before her.

“Uhhuh.” She says as she shovels it into her open mouth. She closes her eyes andmoans deliciously.

Saeyoungchuckles, as he tackles his own ice cream.

“Isthat my ice cream?” Saeran walks in, hands on hips, staring into their bowls.

Saeyoungrolls his eyes, “No, Saeran, see?” he pushes his bowl right under his brother’seyes.

“Well,ok then, good.” Saeran backs off, turning to the freezer, the desire to eat someice cream now high on his to do list.

“Yoosung?”he yells absently.

“Huh?’comes the answer from down the hall.

“Wantsome ice cream?” Saeran asks loudly.

“Oh,yeah, that sounds great.” Yoosung bounces into the kitchen, hovering behindSaeran at the freezer. He glances over to Saeyoung and MC at the kitchen table.“MC!” he rushes to stand next to her and tries to grab the bowl. She’s fasterand clasps a hand around it, holding it to her body protectively. Yoosungstands up straight and crosses his arms.

She staresat him sheepishly with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

“Giveme that bowl!” he scowls. Saeyoung laughing as MC shakes her head wordlessly.

Yoosung’sfists go to his hips, ‘You. Are. Lactose. Intolerant!” he yells. “Now give itto me!” he tries to grab it again.

“No!”she twists her body away from him.

“Saeyoung,help me here! You know she is going to end up in the bathroom in no time if sheeats any more of that.” he points to the ice cream.

Saeyoungshrugs. “You’re on your owns there Yoosung.”

Yoosunghuffs. Saeran puts two bowls of ice cream on the table and sits next toSaeyoung.

“Saeran?”Yoosung quirks an eyebrow. Saeran looks at Yoosung, then at MC, then back toYoosung. He shrugs in eerie imitation of Saeyoung, scooping his own ice creamout of his bowl.

“Youtwo are unbelievable! She is your wife Saeyoung, don’t you care that she is goingto be vomiting everything she’s eating, and then some?”

“Yes,but if I take that bowl away from her, I’m going to be vomiting from the punchto the stomach she’s going to give me.” MC giggled, winking at her husband.

“Arrgh!Am I the only adult in this house?” Yoosung’s small frame vibrated withfrustration, his fists hitting his thighs.

MCtook another bite of her ice cream and gave Yoosung puppy dog eyes.

“Just…eatyour ice cream Yoosung, before it melts.” Saeran suggested, pushing the bowltowards Yoosung.

‘Nothank you!” he clipped. “Why don’t you just give it to MC!” he stalked out of theroom mumbling.

The threeexchanged looks, MC feeling guilty. Was he really that angry? She put her bowldown, her stomach feeling the effects already. So now she felt guilty andnauseous. No one made a move or a sound, spoons silent.

“I’llgo talk to him.” MC got up and followed where the blonde had gone, back to hisroom. He sat on his and Saeran’s bed, arms still crossed, lips in a thin whiteline, eyes glistening. She sat next to him, he refused to look at her, turningeven further away.

“Are…areyou really mad Yoosung?” she asked, getting only a loud huff as an answer.

She bither lip, damn, her belly was riled up now. She swallowed, trying to ignore it.

“I’msorry.” She put her hand on his knee. “I know I shouldn’t, but, it just tastesso good! I can’t help myself. And…don’t be angry with Saeyoung, he only wantsme to be happy.” Yoosung shook his head, bristling at the stupidity. Her healthwas important, how could they treat it so flippantly?

He finallyturned to her, ready to admonish her for her lack of will power. Her face wasred, she held her stomach, and she was breathing in and out shallowly. Oh no…hegrabbed her hand and ran with her to the bathroom. They barely made it in time.She threw the toilet lid open and sank to her knees, hands on either side of thebowl. Yoosung quickly gathered her hair and held it out of the way of thespewing ice cream. He was sure it did not taste as good the second time around.He sighed, wishing she had listened to him, wishing she would listen periodwhen it came to this.

Saeranand Saeyoung crowded the bathroom door. Saeyoung walked in, taking over holdingMC’s hair. Yoosung walked out, Saeran following.

Saeyoungrubbed MC’s back as she continued to retch into the toilet bowl. There must benothing left in her stomach, be her body kept trying to push more out. When shewas finally done, she sat back into her husband, completely spent. Her face wasa purplish color, her mouth slack. Saeyoung grabbed a washcloth, wetting it andwiping her face with it.

He sighedloudly. “Babe, I love you, but, Yoosung is right. You can’t keep eating icecream, not when it does this to you.”

“But…but…”she stammered.

“Isit worth it? And I’m not just talking about your physical reaction. I’m talkingabout Yoosung’s. He takes really good care of us, and…well…I really feelashamed of myself right now. I don’t like to see him like that.”

She turnedher honey brown eyes to him, the same shame reflected in them. “You’re right.Damn Yoosung!” she wailed weakly. “Why does he have to care so much?”

Saeyounghuffed, amused. “I know right?” he quipped.

Whenshe was able to stand again, they went in search of Yoosung. He sat at thesofa, arms crossed again, staring unseeing at the television. Saeran sat at thekitchen table, finishing Yoosung’s ice cream.

MCsat on one side of Yoosung, and Saeyoung on the other side.

She layher head on his shoulder and pushed her hand between his arm and body. Hereluctantly loosened his arms. Saeyoung also lay his head on Yoosung’sshoulder, hooking his arm around Yoosung’s.

“I’msorry Yoosung.” MC said sweetly.

“We’resorry.” Saeyoung tried to mimic MC.

“Ipromise I won’t do it again.” She said, staring up at him.

“Don’tmake promises you can’t keep. More importantly, don’t make promises you don’tintend to keep!” Yoosung huffed.

“ButI do!” she stated emphatically.

Saeyoungnodded his head as well. “And I promise I will try my best not to let her eatice cream again too.” He put his chin on Yoosung’s shoulder and beamed at him.

“Thankyou for taking such good care of us Yoosung.” MC said, kissing his cheek.

“Exactly.”Saeyoung said, and kissed his other cheek.

“Pleasedon’t stay mad at us.” MC begged.

“Idon’t believe you! Why is this time any different?” Yoosung tried to extricatehimself from the duo, but to no avail. He gave up and sank back into the sofa,still upset.

MCand Saeyoung exchanged a glance.

“Iguess we’re going to have to bring out the big guns.” Saeyoung told her. Shenodded. She hated having anyone in her pack mad at her, but when it wasYoosung, you knew you had done something really bad.

Saeyoungand MC transformed. Saeyoung falling to the floor, not wanting to ruin thesofa. He lay his head on Yoosung’s knee, staring up at him and whining. MCstepped onto his lap, purring and pushing her head against his arms until heuntangled them and settled one hand on her head, the other on Saeyoung’s.

“That’snot fair! Don’t think I’m going to forgive you just because you’re now cute andcuddly!” but his resolve was weakening, they could tell.

MCmewled, purring even louder. Saeyoung rose and licked Yoosung’s face, makinghim giggle. Saeran watched with a shake of his head, Yoosung didn’t stand achance.

Werewolf AU

[michiigii-writes-mysme]

Ten Years Later

Summary:  Your tenth anniversary with Seven.

Pairing:  Saeyoung x MC/Reader

Genre:  Fluff; Slice of Life

Rating:  G

Word Count:  Approx. 1300

“Happy tenth anniversary, angel!”

It was the evening of the day that marked your first decade married to Saeyoung.  You had just had a lovely dinner, that you had cooked together, and were now relaxing in your home, settling down to exchange presents on the living room couch.  You were having a well-earned peaceful night on your anniversary, while Saeran babysat your kids at his place.

“I can't believe it's been ten years...” you smiled, holding out a shoe-box shaped present to your husband.

“Me neither,” he grinned back, trading your box for his own, “...I didn't even think I'd still be alive, by now.”

“Stop that,” you chided, poking him in the ribs, “We are focusing on being happy, today!”

“I am happy!” he protested, “Happy to be with you!”

“Oh, please,” you smiled, gesturing towards his box, “Open it!  Open it!”

“No, you open yours first,” he insisted, putting his box down on the floor and waiting for you.

“Oh, fine...”

The anniversary gift for the tenth year was supposed to be tin.  You and Saeyoung liked to play with the traditional gifts; the first year, paper, he had made you 1000 paper cranes (“A wish!”), while you had gotten him some 'boudoir photos' of yourself.  His favourite, so far, was the sweater you had made for him for your seventh anniversary, and you had loved the tree he had planted for you last year, but you both had to agree that his gift to you for your fifth year deserved an honourable mention.

Opening your gift, your eyes lit up when you saw what Saeyoung had clearly made for you.  Delicately, you lifted out of the box a beautiful tin model spaceship.

“Saeyoung, this is amazing!  It's beautiful!” you exclaimed, your eyes misting up as you took in the detail he had put into his gift.  There were shootings stars and planets etched into the thin metal, and when you looked in through the port hole, you could see a little red-headed astronaut and his wife, sitting in front of the controls.

“Marry me at the space station?” Saeyoung teased, pulling you into his arms while you admired his handiwork.

“Of course,” you smiled, giving him a sweet kiss, “...Oh, I wish I put more thought into my gift...”

“But I love it so much.”

“You haven't even opened it, yet!”

You both laughed at that, then, Saeyoung gave you a kiss on your forehead before reaching for his own gift.  Putting the box in his lap, he lifted the lid, stared at its contents for a moment, then chuckled and put his arm around you again.

“You found me vintage Dr. Pepper cans...!”

“Technically, the tenth anniversary gift is tin or aluminum, so I did not cheat,” you said defensively.

“You're right, you're right,” Saeyoung nodded, picking up one can in particular, “Wow, I remember almost living on this stuff.  ...It is so bad for you.”

“SO bad,” you agreed, giggling before kissing your husband on the cheek, “But you don't have to drink these; we can just put them on the shelf.  ...do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled, then, looking at the cans again, “...you got me ten?”

“One for every year,” you nodded emphatically, “I even tracked down the first can design that was ever put into production.  See?”  You tapped a can with a rather minimalistic design.

“Seriously?” Saeyoung's eyebrows shot up, “Well, now I'm just impressed.”

“I will take that compliment,” you preened, giving your husband another peck on the cheek.

Saeyoung grinned at you, then let his expression soften a bit.  He was happy. So happy.  He had a wife, and his brother back, and kids...  If anyone had told his 20-year-old self that he would be this content with his life, he would never have believed them.  It was amazing what ten years could do.

“So...now that we're all sunshine and roses...” Saeyoung rubbed your back as he spoke in a more serious tone, “Can you please tell me what you've been hiding all week?”

Your smile faded, at that.

“You noticed, huh?”

“Well, I've been married to you for ten years.  It would be bad if I hadn't.”

You made a face at him, but knew he was right.  Wordlessly, you went to your bookshelf and pulled out a large envelope from behind several books that you knew he would never touch:  A series of shoujo manga.

“That is the perfect hiding place,” he said almost approvingly.

“I know, right?”

You handed the envelope to your husband before sitting down beside him, again.

“I didn't say anything because I wanted us to just have our anniversary without any drama,” you explained.

“I figured.  It's okay,” he replied with a shrug, pulling out a single paper from the envelope.

It was a legal document.  Your marriage license.

“I've been wondering where this was!” he exclaimed, looking the document over, “I've been meaning to frame it, or something.”

“We really should get all our papers organized,” you chuckled, “I found this while looking for my winter boots.  In the garage.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell was this doing there?”

“Right?”

Saeyoung scratched the back of his neck, asking, “But why did you feel like you needed to hide this?”

You sighed, then pointed to a spot on the document for him to look at. Your husband read it carefully, then his eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?!” he burst out, motioning to your marriage license.

“I'm really not!” you replied, nodding with your eyebrows raised.

“This can't be real!” he protested, in denial.

“It really can!” you insisted, waving at the paper in his hand.

“We've been celebrating our anniversary on the wrong date for ten years?!”

“We have!  We really, really have,” you groaned, commiserating with your husband.

That was right.  For the past ten years, you and Saeyoung had been celebrating your anniversary three days later than your actual wedding date.

At first, Saeyoung only stared at the document, disbelieving.  Ten years!  Ten years of getting it wrong!

Then, slowly, his incredulous expression morphed into a huge, toothy grin and suddenly he was laughing like his sides would burst.  Doubled over and crying a little, your husband was laughing.

“You're not...mad?” you asked, nervously chuckling a little at how hilarous Saeyoung seemed to find the situation, “Or...going mad?”

“Mad? No, no, this is amazing!” he guffawed, wiping a couple tears away before pulling you into a bear hug, “Oh, angel, this would only happen to us!”

“It really would, huh?” you chuckled, burying your face into your husband chest, “Uuuugh, but I feel terrible!”

“Don't!” Saeyoung exclaimed, still chuckling but calming down a little as he held you, “My love, this is just...so typical for us.”

You groaned into his front, but he rubbed your back comfortingly. Finally, when he spoke, his voice was back to normal.

“Angel...don't take it so hard.  It doesn't matter what the date is, my love.  What matters is that it's time we spent together. And I'm so thankful for that.  I'm so thankful for you.  You know that, right, angel?”

Silently, you nod into his chest.  You still refused to show your face.

“Oh, angel...happy anniversary!  ...should we celebrate three days early for the next ten years to even it out?”

You had to laugh at that.

“Oh god...maybe we should...!”

You looked up at him then, love and laughter shining in your eyes, and reflected in his own.  He was right.  The situation was ridiculous, but hey; that was you two in a nutshell.

“I love you so much...  Happy anniversary...!”

-fin-

I got the idea from one of those fluff prompt lists.  This was for the @mysticmessimagines Valentine’s Week.

Hope you enjoyed!

[angstymarshmallow]

Ça, alors (Drake x MC)

[A little note: I’ve done! 12 pages later and the anon that requested a friend of Robyn’s from her life before coming to visit her in Cordonia is complete! As usual, I regret to inform how long my stories have the tendency of being but once I started - it kept going and I wanted it all nicely to fit into one place instead of a part 1 and 2. I want to keep this going because I think Jai’s a lot of fun but here’s at least a good place to end off. If you’ve got time to spare - I hope you enjoy this! Thanks again anon for the fun request].

[Summary: When Robyn’s (MC) friend comes to visit, she’s more than a little nervous for what that means in the palace. Unlike the rest of Robyn’s friends, Jai’s impromptu arrival at the palace could spell trouble].

[Word Count: 5231 so long, so very long]

Robyn has been pacing back and forth in front of Drake for the last sever minutes. It has been so long that Drake thinks he’ll go insane if he doesn’t try and stop her. He bites his tongue before finally succumbing to the urge; closing enough distance to gingerly grip her wrist and pull her lightly towards him. He wants to provide some sort of comfort in the wake of the abrupt and nearly unhinged silence between them since they’ve awoken.

The sunlight catches her at just the right angle, highlighting the frustration that flits across her face as she bats his hands away. She dances out of his grasp, her face uncharacteristically unreadable. Her hands sweep her hair, continually tugging and re-fixing fine curls every few seconds until eventually she surrenders to the whim of her messy bun altogether. Her teeth snag her bottom lip, while she paces restlessly towards the other side of his bedroom.

It’s the first time Drake has ever seen her quite rattled – nervous. Every gesture she makes is jerky, tense. He can’t help but worry while watching – something has to be very amiss, he thinks to himself. Usually oozing self-confidence, the woman in front of him fumbles to meet his puzzled frown and fails miserably at the urge to groan.

“So, you are nervous.” Drake quips. She refuses to even hold eye contact with him for longer than a couple seconds.

“Me? Nervous?” She squeaks, “no way.” Forcing a laugh, she waves his concerns away dismissively with the flick of her wist.

He quirks a singular eyebrow at her.

Groaning again, she throws herself onto his bed. Her feet kick-up, increasing her momentum as she pounds her fists against his silken sheets. “Gaaaah,” she wails.

He waits a beat, allowing her to take her frustrations out until she suddenly stops and slumps forward; taking the sheet with her. “So, I take it you’re ready to be honest about what’s been eating you?” Although, he has a good guess. He figures it probably has to do with her old friend joining them for a few days after calling Robyn out of the blue.

“Why am I so nervous?” Robyn grabs a pillow in time to muffle a frustrated scream.

Drake tries his best not to laugh. “Seriously, why are you so nervous?” He smoothens his expression into a smirk and waits until she rolls over before adding, “I thought you’d be more excited to see her.”

“I am.” She pauses, frowning a little. “I mean I am excited.”

“Really?” At her emphatic nod, he purses his lips. There’s a little note of dejection in her voice that makes him think otherwise. His Robyn is usually so sure of herself and seeing this particularly vulnerable side of her has awakened his instincts to shield her at all costs. It takes a lot out of him not to tuck her to his side and rub her back. Instead, he waits for her to say more.

Robyn tucks her legs under herself as she sits up. “No.” She says abruptly. “Yes. I mean – it’s just,” a stray curl flies up as she blows out a frustrated breath and stares at the ceiling. “Jai and I kind of have a complicated relationship.”

“Kind of complicated?” He echoes dimly.

“Yeah, we were – or are great friends.” A frown line appears between her brow, “hell, she’s pretty much my best friend but….” Trailing off for a moment, she sits cross-legged. “Jai sort of has this tendency to bring out the um…bad me,” even as Robyn speaks, her mind surges with unbidden memories from the past; years of knowing her and realizing it’s never a girl’s night without a spiral of bad decisions and forgetting half of the night before. “Really, it’s…probably nothing.” She mutters meekly, not quite meeting his stare.

“Tinsley,” she hears his sigh and feels the slight dip in bed as he inches closer. Within second his fingers touch her skin.

His hands are warm, they always feel warm and cause a small shiver to run down her spine. A little reluctantly, she lifts her head. There’s a worried frown she’d like to change into a smile with a kiss.

His hold weakens the moment she does. Leaning over, she kisses him noisily on the lips. When she pulls slightly back, he rubs lazy circles across her forearms.

She drops her head to his chest. “Hmm?”

Drake waits until she peeks up at him. “You aren’t telling me why you’re nervous and now I’m almost too afraid to ask.” He means it as a joke, but his tone ends up falling flat. His imagination has been going haywire since she first mentioned her friend’s untimely visit nearly a week ago.

It isn’t that he’s uninterested in meeting the woman. (He has to force himself to be more open-minded as it is after all the only friend she’s told him about since living with them in Cordonia). But he expected himself to the nervous one at the idea and yet it’s his fiancée that’s nearly shaking like a leaf as she nestles herself further into his arms.

“I don’t mean to worry you.” She trails a finger across his jaw. “I guess I’m worried because…. I know how Jai works,” She forces a smile. “I know how I am when we’re together,” she bites her bottom lip thoughtfully. “And I don’t know if I like that me anymore.” Pressing her eyes closed for a moment, she shrugs.

Drake’s expression softens. Cupping her cheek, he leans intently forward. “Hey, look at me.”

Her eyes are slowly train on his, on the abrupt intensity in his stare; reflecting back at her.

“You’re amazing Tinsley.” His lips tug into a rare smile. “And nothing you did in the past could ever change that.” He reassures her, “nothing you’ve ever done could ever scare me away.”

“Really?” She asks, her voice hopeful.

“Really.” He implores quietly. “Face it Robyn, you’re stuck with me.”

“…Even if I killed someone?”

His face twists, “wait what?” That is the last thing he expects her to say.

Her eyes glint mischievously. “I’m just saying – you said I could never scare you away.” Grinning, she sticks her tongue out at him. “I figure if that’s the case that means you’ll stay with me even when I do something crazy.”

He laughs and Robyn barely manages to keep a straight face until he suddenly tackles her. “Ah!” She lets out a gasp at being pressed into his bed; gazing up at him the moment she finds herself pinned underneath his body.

He captures her arms with his coarser one and braces them on either side of her head. “Does that answer your question?”

Her heart skips a beat and she sucks in a breath when she feels his hardness wedged in the between her thighs. “…I guess we’d both go to jail then.”

“Guess so.” Smiling, he lowers himself until their lips are almost an inch away from each other. “But only if you make it worthwhile.”

His voice has gone husky, a deep timber that causes a rush of goosebumps to erupt across Robyn’s skin. “I think I can be very convincing,” she closes the rest of the space between them; eagerly capturing his lips with hers again.

She hooks her legs around his waist. His lips coax hers open, and when she feels the tip of his tongue darting inside her mouth, she moans loud enough for her to believe someone will hear them if they aren’t careful. But she doesn’t want to be careful – not when he’s possessing her mouth with such fervor, not when his eagerness growing harder by the second. Her fingers itch to be free and makes a small noise of protest.

He tightens his hold and keeps her hands firmly by the side of her head, ignoring her silent request to run her fingers over his skin.

When he pulls slightly away, they’re both breathing heavily.

“God, I want you so badly right now.” Her voice tinged with need, she rubs himself intimately into him and watches as his eyes change.

A smirk flits across his face, fleeting before he settles for nipping her bottom lip playfully; earning another soft moan from her lips. “But do we have enough time?”

She knows him better than to believe that. And the playful smirk that follows is enough for her to confirm her sentiments. He doesn’t really care about how long they spend in bed before joining the rest of the waking world.

Smiling coyly over him, Robyn tries to shift her hips forward and her stomach dips in delight when he hisses out a sharp breath. “Well you’ve got me right where you want me, so who cares about the time?”

Hiding his smile, Drake bends his head low and with exaggerated slowness his lips skim the base of her throat. He plants tiny kisses there and relishes in the little noises she makes as he does the same to the other side. “You’re right,” he mutters pressing his lips into her skin; feeling her nerves flutter at the base of her neck. “I do have right where I want you.”

Robyn is about to respond when he grazes her lips again, this time roughly. It’s a demand that he wants more than simple kissing. When he lets go of his hands to roam underneath her shirt, an idea strikes her.

Twisting, she wrestles until she’s able to outmaneuver his impassive frame. She catches Drake off-guard the moment she’s solidly on top of him. Straddling him, she grins cheekily at his mouth half-open. “Are you really sure you have me right where you want me?” She cooes.

Seemingly recovered, his arms slide to rest near her lower back. He sits up and his own back hits the headboard as he tilts his chin up to meet her amused stare. “You bet.” He murmurs back, huskily.

“No, I think I’m the one with the upper-hand this time.” As though for emphasis, she rolls her hips enough for him to take a ragged breath. “Don’t you think, Drake?”

Before he can respond, there’s a sudden knock on their door that causes them both to jump in alarm.

“Mr. Walker?” The voice takes a moment for either of them to recognize. It belongs to one of Liam’s most prominent caretakers of the palace. “Mr. Walker?” The voice repeats, except several octaves higher.

Robyn keeps her mouth firmly shut, as she shares a wide-eyed look with Drake.

Clearing his throat, Drake responds timidly. “Uh yeah?”

“I haven’t been able to find Miss Tinsley anywhere.” She says with increased uncertainty, “and I wanted to ask you as soon as possible, if you’ve seen her.”

“Why, what’s going?” Robyn inquires before Drake can answer. She freezes, realizing her mistake the moment she’s spoken. She groans and wants to kick herself for responding but her curiosity has always gotten the best of her.

There’s a pause over the other side. “Uh, there’s a woman downstairs for you Miss Tinsley,” the woman says slowly; as though trying to recover from the shock of hearing her.

“Oh,” Robyn frowns. “Oh!” She says a second time, slapping her forehead.

“What?” Drake asks, alarmed by the sudden shift in her attitude.

“It might be Jai – she must’ve came in early from her flight.” Glancing at the time, Robyn tries to extricate herself from her finance until he swiftly blocks her attempts to scramble on her feet.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.” He murmurs huskily.

Fingers running along her lower back, Robyn shivers again. “Someone’s hungry this morning,” she teases but doesn’t stop him from unhooking her bra. Anticipation and adrenaline floods her – until the door suddenly flies open and Robyn barely has enough time to dive under the covers before a flurry of footsteps rush inside.

“What the hell?!” Drake growls and Robyn yelps before she peeks from underneath her sheets.

Drake scowls at the sudden intrusion however Robyn blinks twice at the familiar fair-skinned figure that has entered.

“So, this is why you’ve been hold up in Cordonia for so long.”  

The voice sounds distinctly familiar and Robyn finds her mouth swinging open for a moment in complete surprise – dark hair and willowy figure and all – in the flesh, smirking at the both of them. “Jai!”

Drake, still inside his boxes looks for his robe before tossing it to Robyn.

“Hello handsome. Hi Ro.” Jai blows a raspberry while Drake tries frantically to cover himself as he searches for a robe.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she clucks her tongue. “You haven’t got anything down there that I haven’t seen before.” She says breezily, chuckling at the sight of him blushing and fumbling for some kind of retort.

“I – you – ” His scowl deepens and he swerves his attention to his fiancée. “Robyn.”

Robyn helplessly shrugs, feeling all but a little loss for words as Jai chuckles again.

Jai leans against the door, seeming unconcerned as the two of the figures in front of her scramble to find proper clothes to greet her. “Please, don’t stop on my account. Sometimes I like to watch.”

“Robyn.”

The maid that had seemingly disappeared momentarily is suddenly back. With one hand over her eyes and the other frantically griping thin air as Jai takes cautionary steps to dodge her, she apologizes profusely. “I’m sorry Mister Walker and Miss Tinsley. I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen to me –”

“That’s alright Gretchen.” Robyn says with a sigh, batting away Drake’s robe when he tries to hand it to her. She’s already found an appropriate outfit to slip into. Jai steps farther into the room as Robyn makes a gesture at the maid to leave. “It’s fine, she’s an old friend. You can leave us.”

Gretchen curtsies awkwardly and keeps her gaze rooted to the floor as she makes her escape.

It isn’t until she safely closes the door behind her that Jai whistles. Her dark hair shifts to the side as she inclines her head. “Well that was awkward, wasn’t it? A maid catching the both of you like that. I can only imagine the gossip.”

Finally pulling on some suitable clothing, Robyn flies across the room to hug her. “Jai! Wow, it’s so good to see you!” She beams.

Jai laughs, hugging her back and smiling down at her the second she releases her. “It’s good to see you too beau.”

Drake loudly clears his throat. They both turn in time to notice he’s yanked on a shirt and a pair of jeans. “Uh, not that this isn’t touching and all but could you wait outside for a sec…” he trails off for a moment, watching another smirk touch Jai’s lips. “…Jai, right?”

“My friends call me Jai,” the woman says crisply, her voice suddenly dripping with traces of venom. “But I don’t know where you fall yet, so call me Jaiyanna.”

“Jai!” Robyn scowls at her friend. “He’s my fiancé.”

“But a stranger to me.” She counters.

“You can trust him, I do – with my life.”

“Of course, you do.” She shrugs her slender shoulders delicately. “I gotta figure out if he’s worthy of you yet.” She winks and Robyn fights the urge to roll her eyes. “But anyways yeah, I’ll wait outside. But we’ve got lots to catch up and talk about.” At the note of annoyance flickering inside Drake’s eyes, Jai feels more than inclined to add, “I mean it’s not like I’ve never seen Ro naked before but you don’t have to worry about.” She purses her lips, “well not really, we were both drunk and -”

“Okay, out you go.” Robyn’s hands quickly jerk the door wide open and swiftly shoves her friend. Cheeks burning, she can still hear her friend’s laugh floating even from across the door.

There’s a moment of heavy silence when she whirls back to glance timidly at Drake.

“Well that was…” Drake trails off, barely managing to place into words the type of entrance he just saw.

“Yeah…that’s Jai for you.” Robyn tries to laugh, but by his grimace he doesn’t seem to find the situation funny. She fixes the buttons on her blouse. “I’m sorry maybe I should have warned you –”

“No, it’s fine.” This time it’s his voice that’s having difficulty to keep from squeaking. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Really, I’m sure Jai’s a great….friend.”

“She is!” She insists, “…but she’s also an acquired taste.” A pause. “Like wine.”

“Right.” He nods slowly.

“Well, we should better meet her outside – there’s no telling what sort of trouble she’ll find without us.”

“Wait a minute.” A horrible thought suddenly strikes Drake. “Are you saying she’s even worse than you?”

Robyn doesn’t miss a beat to answer. “You have no idea.”

Feeling suddenly ill, Drake follows dutifully behind her only to find the woman’s all but disappeared.

-

The sound of moaning and hushed whispers, would’ve kept most people away. Hell, anyone with half a brain’s able to figure out it’s past do-not-disturb territory and entering if-you-do-so-help-me god - but Jai isn’t like most people. She looks for trouble, thrives on excitement and thrills, so shoving the maid aside and tossing the door open had seemed like the most natural thing at the time.

She hadn’t anticipated the rush of jealously when she spotted the two of them half naked. The broody man that’s whisked her best friend away.

Robyn’s mentioned Drake before – in one of her rather long-winded emails that Jai half-read and yet she’s still surprised to see them. She’s even more annoyed at how envious she feels at the sight of them; how happy they are despite her stepping in and intruding on their happiness. And after that all her thoughts have been anything but sugary sweet the way she told herself to be. She doesn’t know why, but she cared more about hurting them – hurting Robyn in that moment than commenting on how happy they were.

Unfortunately, none of what she thinks would’ve worked. And much to her surprise and annoyance, their relationship is as solid as Robyn mentioned nearly a dozen times.

After leaving their room, Jai roamed the halls; deciding it’s better for her to clear her head of those kind of thoughts instead of bringing trouble anyway.

She’s the one that came without warning – the least she can do is try and figure out why Robyn would’ve given up all the freedom they’ve had in New York for this. This cushiony and kind of pompous life she’s gotten now. Where Jai thinks, Robyn’s probably stuck in boring meetings with stuck-up strangers all the time instead of finding trouble whenever possible. Although, Jai did get a kick out of the whole Tariq scandal thing.

Jai hates to admit to herself though; Cordonia is beautiful. More than that, there’s something magical about it that appeals to her. Although she’s never been a fan of fairy tales, she’s found herself more than once wondering what it’d be like to live here. And the flight into the country despite its mishaps and bumps, plus the little she’s seen when she snuck subtly past some security before they caught her – it’s all breathtaking.

She can’t find one good reason to hang onto the feelings she had while traveling here. Maybe a change of scenery is all she needs to finally put her mind at ease. Maybe it’ll do some good and give her some much-needed clarity after the month she’s had.

Slipping her fingers inside her blazer, she turns down another hall; finding the stairs quickly before setting her heels at the task of following unto their well-polished floors. She swears she can see her unblinking face staring back at her – hair the colour of midnight that falls in beach waves across her shoulders; hazel eyes that look tired only to meet double French doors by the time’s reached another hall. Suddenly feeling excited, she barrels through quickly and grins at the sight of wine stocked to the brim. Jackpot.

She recognizes several labels – and picks the most expensive one before prying the top off. The peach liquid goes down smooth and she whistles at how divine the flavours feel on her tongue.

Damn, this place keeps getting better and better.

She drinks another mouthful before she tucks it under her arm. Giving one final look of the room, she vows to return another time before she sets off down the hall again.

“Where is she?” Jai stops inside her track at the sudden sound of voices booming in another hall.

“I can’t believe it’s only been only an hour and I’ve already lost her.” It’s Robyn and by the sounds of it, Jai thinks she’s exasperated.

“Don’t worry- we’ll find her.” Another voice reassures her – one that’s unrecognizable. A deeper baritone that sounds well-refined, almost as smooth and velvety as the wine she has with her.

“She couldn’t have gone far. She’s here to visit you after all Robyn. Hopefully, she’s alright and just a little lost.” Another voice chimes in; sweeter this time and vasly lighter in contrast to her own voice.

Jai ponders for a moment on speaking up until she hears their footsteps – receding into the other direction. Throwing caution to the wind, she takes another swig of her wine before scurrying across the hall in order to greet them. “Hold on, I’m right here –” She stumbles when she directly slams into a hard chest.

It’s one that feels immobile as their strong arms quickly prevent her from falling over her own feet. “Oh!” The voice sounds startled. They step back only when she’s able to blink up at them. “Are you quite alright?”

Jai meets the stranger’s stare and her throat suddenly goes dry. He’s handsome. It’s the first thought she has and the electricity that flares between them makes her pulse quicken. Although he isn’t just handsome in the way that she finds a lot of men handsome. He isn’t rugged in any sense of the word but refined with highly European looks that strike her of an aristocrat rather than a simple citizen of Cordonia. Unused to not being the tallest person in the room, she blinks up at him before a smile touches her lips. “I am now.” She responds, boldly touching his arm.

The man seems taken aback by her attention and Jai feels disappointed when his hands drop to his side. He takes a courteous step back as the rest of the voices she heard earlier joins them.

“There you are!” The relief she hears in Robyn’s voice is almost adorable.

“Here I am.” Jai is about to stretch her arms wide when she remembers the wine.  “And I brought a friend.” She wiggles her eyebrows, earning a laugh from Robyn but a worried from some of the others.  

“Kinda reminds me of that time we snuck into school to steal some of that wine our old professor kept buying, huh?” Jai grins, she turns her attention back to the bottle and squints. “In fact, I could swear it’s the same label….”

“Jai!” Robyn interrupts, grabbing the taller woman’s arm. “Maybe we should slow down with the wine. At least until dinner.” She takes the bottle from her and passes it to Drake.

“Why?” Jai bristles. It’s no fun when Robyn acts all responsible. Without waiting for her to respond, she quickly steps between them and grabs the bottle before thinking better of it.

Drake blinks in surprise and Robyn gives him a pointed glare once he surrenders it to her. “Don’t want me to tell them all about the Robyn I grew up with, hmm?” The Robyn that would’ve never been caught dead at something as posh as this. “It’s a pity because I remember her being fun.”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, but I assure you the Robyn we know is extremely fun.” The woman in the pink floral dress intercedes cheerfully. She clasps her hands together, “I honestly don’t think Cordonia would be the same without her.”

Instead of listening to the murmur of agreements, Jai rolls her eyes and shifts her attention to the other gentleman that hasn’t introduced himself yet. His eyes sparked with a glint of mischief that alludes her into thinking she’s found a kindred spirit.

“Not that I disagree with Hana’s assessment but we’d still love to hear stories about our little blossom in the big city.” He wraps his arm around Jai and squeezed her shoulders. “Especially from a friend.”

“Maxwell!” Robyn and Drake yell at the same time.

Jai grins, bumping him playfully. “You know I think I’ll like you.” When she meets Robyn’s mortified expression, she smirks triumphantly. That’s right, I can win over anyone.

“Jaiyanna everybody – she’s really a charming one, isn’t she?” Robyn suddenly leaps between them, and makes hasty excuses for a moment alone with her. “We’ll be right back!”

-

Once they’re a safe distance away, Robyn’s fingers on her arm tightens enough for Jai to think it’ll leave a mark. “Okay, Jai enough’s enough.”

“Really?” Jai’s grin widens and she wrenches her arm free. “Because I’ve barely begun scratching the surface.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jai snorts, folding her arms. “I’m the one having fun – what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” She hisses back at her. She closes her eyes momentarily; trying to ignore the stab of anger she feels flaring. It’s always been like this with Jai – she never knows when she’s crossed a line. Or maybe, she does and she just doesn’t care. Robyn doesn’t know which is worse. “I just thought we’re friends.” Her voice is a lot smoother this time, most of the anger she feels has drifted off. “Friends don’t embarrass friends like that.”

“Oh, so now I’m embarrassing.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Robyn replies, voice faltering. She lets out a frustrated sigh, fighting to remain composed as Jai narrows her eyes at her. “Did you really come all this way to tell stories about me?”

Jai thinks she hears guilt – maybe regret inside her voice. “Yes and no.” She says before she can think better of it. It’s always been easier for her to say what’s on her mind than keeping it bottled inside.  “I’m sorry, okay?” She sighs, “it’s just – I never realized how happy you are here until now, and seeing how much better off you are without me in your life – it sucks okay?”

Robyn’s expression softened. “I never could be happy without you Jai. You’re my best friend.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.” She mumbles glumly.

“I can have multiple best friends.” Robyn retorts, quickly closing the gap to hug her friend. “Wait till you meet Penelope.”

“I have a feeling by the way you’re saying her name that I’m supposed to be very surprised when I do meet her.”

“Oh, you will be trust me. She’ll be here in a couple of days, we’re supposed to be doing this world tour –” Robyn stops, scowling at herself as soon as she realizes Jai’s successfully diverted attention from herself. “But this isn’t about me right now – we’re talking about you. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why the sudden rush to be here?”

“Well, I wanted to make sure I’d be on time for the wedding.” Jai hedges, waving a superfluous hand in the air. “You know how I usually am with events – fashionably late, blah blah.”

“Jai…” Robyn trials off, “we can talk about the wedding later.” She bites her lower lip, “now you’re really making me worried.”

Jai sighs heavily; barely fighting the abrupt urge she feels to confess everything. Robyn makes it so damn easy when she looks up at her with those puppy dog eyes. “It’s my dad.” She says finally, swallowing the sudden lump lodged in her throat. “He died two months ago and I’m – I’m sort of a mess, y’know?” Fresh tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she rubs them hastily away. Although she’s never seen eye-to-eye with him, the news still hurts – especially when she has to say it out-loud.

“Oh my gosh, Jai I had no idea!”

“How could you? I mean – we talk on and off for months at ends but then we stop talking again. Again and again.” Jai closes her eyes, fighting for composure. “And it’s never been a good time to bring it up….” she trails off as Robyn hugs her again, except this time Jai doesn’t want to shrug her off. Her hands clutch tightly to her. She’s afraid if she lets go, she’ll disappear, “dammit I don’t want to cry, I’ve done enough crying already.”

“I’m so sorry,” Robyn mumbles, hugging her tighter. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you found out, I’m sorry I –”

“Don’t apologize yourself into an early grave Ro.” She jokes, although her voice cracks and she finds it difficult to keep it even when she averts her eyes to the ceiling. “It’s alright.” She squeezes her shoulders before reluctantly letting go.

“At the time when I found out, I wasn’t in a good place – not for company anyway. But you’re one of the only people that mean the world to me. And I needed a distraction to get out of my own head for awhile.” She smiles weakly at her, “so obviously coming here made the most sense.”

Robyn laughs lightly at her attempt of defusing the tension with humor. If she’s learnt anything over the years, is that no one pushes Jai into nothing she doesn’t want to do. “God Jai, I missed you.” She confesses, hugging her again.

“I missed you too – but I could do without the gazillion hugs.”

“Sorry,” Robyn smiles sheepishly. “But I am gonna give you the biggest distraction of life until you’re ready to talk about it.” At her friend’s nod, Robyn loops her arm around her. “Now let’s go join the rest of them, shall we? I think they’re all really excited to get to know you. Especially Maxwell.”

“I knew I’d like him.” She pauses, “what about the other one? The really tall and sort of the poster model for beautiful. Really, he looks like he’s been sculpted from the gods –”

“Oh. You mean Liam – uh, King Liam.”

“That’s Liam? You left that for broody mc brood over there?” She whistles, “god Ro what were you thinking?!”

“Sssh!” Robyn hisses sharply, knowing she was joking but still feeling mortified at the thought of anyone hearing them. “I think they can hear us.”

“Sorry, I just –” Jai frowns, “you must really love him then, otherwise you’re completely insane.” She waits a beat before adding, “no I’ll definitely go with insane.”

“Shut up,” she playfully bumps into her. “Maybe love just does that to us. Maybe it makes us all a little crazy.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely alone on that one.”

Laughing, Robyn and Jai walks the rest of the way in companionable silence, occasionally giggling and making faces at each other as they both take swigs of the wine Jai procured earlier. Neither one of them are particularly worried about the rest of the day, until they notice with mild alarm the hustle and bustle everyone else is in till dinner.

There’s plenty for them to do before the rest of the day is over.

-

[takingcourage]

Five O’Clock Shadow

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 3,330

Summary: Liam faces his worst nightmare as the lives of his wife and child are threatened. Miles away and powerless to help, he considers the fate of his future.

Note: I’m not sure where this story came from. I had a very uncharacteristic panic attack a couple of weeks ago and it made me start thinking about what drives characters to their breaking points. Poor Liam is the target of my thought experiment. As such, this is a fair bit angstier than my typical work, but I promise all is resolved by the end. I blame PB for making Liam repress so much in canon. 

Anyway, this story can be read independently, but follows Three Questions and 4:00 AM. Feel free to groan at the atrocious sequence of titles. I know I have...

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Growing up, he’d heard the platitude. He’d adopted it as a kind of mantra years ago, especially after his brother’s abdication had signaled his impending doom. On days when he’d struggled to come to terms with the responsibilities of being king, he’d used the words to drive out fear. Repeated them over and over in his head until repetition led to understanding -- the understanding that he was just one in a long line of kings. His forebears had served. Now, it was up to him.

But to Liam, the crown had never felt heavier than that night. He couldn’t make sense of why, for the accident had nothing to do with his status. Perhaps it was because the event felt all the more cruel in light of the measures he had taken to prevent any harm from coming to his wife and child. After redoubling security and insisting on additional training for members of the guard, a car accident came like a punch to the gut. It was senseless. Commonplace.

It had upended his entire world.

In what now seemed like another lifetime, he’d been in his office drafting a speech for the opening of a new tourism center in the capital -- an addition that had become increasingly necessary since his marriage almost three years ago. Visitors had been flocking to the small country in the wake of the royal wedding, especially American tourists who had been charmed by Eliza’s tale of rags to riches. In large part, they had Maxwell’s book series to thank for the influx of attention.

It is my great honor to give my blessing…he faltered over the words for a moment, considering his choices. It is a tremendous privilege to be here with you today... Liam wasn’t certain that was right either. With his fountain pen, he scratched a line through the second attempt. He was just shifting his hand to the blank space below when he heard his cell phone ring. Mara.

“Your majesty, there’s been a car accident. The queen is alive, but she’s being taken by ambulance to Lythikos Medical Center.”

A vice clenched his stomach. For the space of several moments he forgot to breathe as a sudden nausea suppressed all else. “I’m on my way,” he responded finally, voice steady despite the frenzied beating of his heart. As the phone dropped to his side, the palpitations became even more pronounced, echoing against the cavity of his chest. Erratic. Uncertain. Beyond his control.

Liam stood, shoving his phone into his trouser pocket as he wrestled with the loafers he’d kicked off an hour before. Forgetting his speech, he flew out the door -- his mind occupied with one task only.

“Your majesty,” Bastien’s voice halted him as he rounded a corner in the hall. 

At the preoccupied nod from his king, he continued, “I’ve heard the news. Your car is being brought around as we speak.”

“Flying is out of the question?” His target defined, Liam kept walking, making his way toward the circular drive in front of the palace.

“With the storm system that’s brewing, it’s inadvisable. Driving is the most certain way of reaching her without further delay.” Bastien matched Liam’s stride with ease.

Liam swallowed, mouth thickening at the thought that he was still hours away. It was already well into the evening, and by the time he reached Lythikos it would be the wee hours of morning. “I’ll leave right away.”

“Let me drive. Even if we weren’t driving into the dead of night, you’re in no condition to be behind the wheel for hours straight,” the older man insisted.

“I can’t lose any time, Bastien.”

“You have my word.”

The twisted roads to Lythikos were treacherous, even when it wasn’t the middle of the harshest winter Cordonia had seen in a decade. Bastien navigated capably and with as much speed as prudence would allow, but Liam still felt as though the journey was taking far longer than ever before.

Useless, Liam alternated between refreshing his phone screen, mouthing silent prayers, and taking deep, deliberate breaths. Sometimes he disrupted the rhythm to do all three at once. He was desperate for some notification to light up the pitch blackness that surrounded him -- aching for any update about Eliza’s condition. He’d worried for her safety many times before, but he had never felt so powerless. In spite of their haste, he knew that there was absolutely nothing he could do to correct what had happened. He couldn’t fight it, couldn’t call in a royal favor to amend the past. This was set.

A shaky breath passed his lips as he stared out at the darkness. Tremors vibrated his chest, seizing and releasing in a sporadic tattoo. Trying to even his breaths only made the racing of his heart more pronounced.

Uneasy, uneasy, uneasy… The word became a revolving loop -- no longer a mantra, but a taunting reminder that he was not in control.

“Your majesty?”

Bastien’s voice was collected despite the inclement weather and the hour of the night.

Liam cleared his throat with a low cough, pressing the button on his phone again. “Yes, Bastien?” The device in his clammy hand remained blank.

“You seem ill. Are you all right?”

Liam resisted the urge to curse. He was ill. He felt certain he would remain so until he was satisfied that Eliza was well. “Just take me to her, Bastien.” He uttered finally, afraid that saying more might lead to further delay.

“Of course. Your majesty?”

Liam’s eyes flicked upward at the rising intonation and he met Bastien’s gaze briefly in the rearview mirror. The man was intent on his task, but there was a level of concern that Liam hadn’t seen in years.

“We should be moving within range of a phone signal shortly. Perhaps you’ll hear something then.”

Liam’s heart flipped, and the accompanying thud resonated through his sternum. He wanted -- no, needed to know what had happened to his wife. More than that, he needed her to be okay. She had been alive three hours ago when Mara had called, but that was all he knew.

If the worst had happened, how would he go on without her? It was a horrifying prospect, but one that he probably should have considered before now. Having seen his father experience the same kind of loss, perhaps he ought to have done more to protect his own heart from that particular strain of vulnerability. But he’d given himself to Eliza completely. For three years now, she had been working beside him, encouraging and helping him to be a better king as she shared his dreams for the future.

Their future. Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Liam realized that Eliza was not the only one in danger.

It was entirely possible that their baby’s health could still be threatened even if the accident had caused his wife no permanent damage. He didn’t know a lot about the specific risks that car accidents posed during pregnancy, but he did know that even at thirty-eight weeks, the baby was still extremely defenseless.

Uneasy. This time, the word was punctuated by a pit that shot through his stomach like a dart. With it came the image of his wife weeping in Bossina Cathedral at the sight of a tiny closed casket.

“No!” he whispered forcefully, refusing to allow his mind to travel that path. He tried to counter the image with the memory of two nights before. He’d lain beside Eliza in their bed, one of his large hands pressing back against emphatic kicks from his son.

“He’s quickly outgrowing my stomach,” Eliza had told him, eyes alight with anticipation.

“I can’t blame him for being eager to meet you,” he’d replied, rubbing a gentle hand against the stretched skin.

“I’m even more eager to meet him.”

“Three weeks.” He knew she hardly needed the reminder. They’d taken great delight in counting down the time together. 

“Unless he’s late -”

Liam had become too absorbed in his thoughts to notice that several minutes had passed without checking his phone. When the blue light suddenly assaulted his eyes, the meaning took some time to register. With a frantic finger, he unlocked the screen, jabbing at the voicemail notification as soon as he was able.

“You have 2 unheard messages.”

The first was from an unfamiliar number. As the automated voice parroted back the date and time, Liam’s heart climbed his throat until it nearly choked him. He uttered an unintelligible sound as the message started:

“Liam, I love you. I want you to know that I’m okay. Our baby is too. He’s so beautiful, Liam. He’s perfect.” There was a sort of hiccuping choke before the message continued. “I know you’re on the way, but I can’t wait to see you, my love. I need you here.”

Click. “Next message.”

The phone fell to the floor as a hot flush stole over Liam’s arms and chest.

She’d had to do it all without him. His blood boiled at the thought of everything she must have gone through. Head pounding furiously, he thought of their planning and all of the practicing they’d done over the past months. Even now, he could hear her giggling at his fervent attempts to perfect Lamaze breathing techniques. One finger moved subconsciously to his breast pocket and the small folded paper that he’d been using to write down affirmations to encourage her with. He’d been collecting them as he thought of them over these last weeks.

He had done everything he could to prepare, but it hadn’t even mattered in the end.

There was a strange, muffled noise coming from his feet. In a daze, Liam lifted the device to his ear, barely able to discern Mara’s voice in his jumble of thoughts. He only made out fragments of her message: placental abruption...the accident...emergency C-section.

In less than a minute, he had shifted from prospective devastation at the loss of his wife to the revelation that he was now a father.

“She’s fine,” he muttered to Bastien hoarsely against a thick tongue. “They’re both fine,” he corrected, feeling an unmistakable prick at his tear ducts.

“We should be there within the hour.”

Liam was out of the car before his bodyguard had even come to a complete stop under the canopied entrance. The stunned looks on the tired faces he passed in the surgery waiting room did not register in his mind at all. In a fog, he turned the corner and saw his destination. From her place beside the door, Mara tipped her head in recognition.

“Good morning, sire. The queen is still under observation, but they’re hoping to move her to the postpartum ward soon if all continues to go well. She may still be awake after the shift change a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, Mara.” He offered a strained smile, but said no more. Instead, he lifted a knuckle to rap on the door before turning the handle and stepping inside.

The room was dark, save for the lights of the parking lot, which filtered through the cream-colored curtains. Liam latched the door behind him purposefully, trying to discern whether his wife was awake as his eyes adjusted from the brightly lit hallways. The attendant at her side looked up and quietly inquired, “Shall I leave the three of you alone?”

Three. His whole body warmed at the word.

“Thank you,” he articulated quickly, stepping forward to get a better view of his wife. Behind him, the door clicked shut -- a stark contrast against the quiet of the room.

“Liam!” Eliza was barely awake, but still very much alive. In two strides, he was beside the bed, clasping her hands in his and drinking in the sight of her. Tears spilled as he pressed her fingers to his dry lips.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, turning one hand to cup his jaw. He looked up at her face, still the loveliest sight he’d ever seen in spite of the nasty cut that spanned her forehead, part to eyebrow. Lifting a finger, he gingerly moved the hair away from her eyes so that he could see her clearly.

“I haven’t even seen the scar yet. Is it bad?”

“It will heal,” he promised, relief filling his throat with tears. “I was so worried for you.”

“I’ll be fine -- just the cut and quite a case of whiplash. Besides, I’m on so many drugs at the moment that I hardly feel anything. But I was terrified for our baby, Liam. I knew something was wrong as soon as the car stopped. I’m just so glad they were able to get us here in time.”

“As am I.” He spent much of the past several hours agonizing over the alternatives. He didn’t want to think of them any longer.

“He’s perfect, Liam. Is he still sleeping?” With great effort, she lifted herself enough to look into the bassinet to her other side.

Liam’s gaze followed hers, falling on the tiny baby across from him. “He’s so small.”

“I know,” was her whispered reply. “If he’d come any earlier, there could have been all sorts of complications. But he’s perfectly healthy -- just not quite as big as we were expecting.”

Liam had seen so many pictures of newborn babies over the past months that the reddened, wrinkly appearance came as little surprise. He’d been warned  that the baby might look like a wizened old man, but it was not this quality which captured his attention. Watching his son for the first time, he took in the the perfectly formed lips, parted and full as the air slipped between them in an even tempo. Hypnotized by the rise and fall of the baby’s chest, the beating of his own heart settled and slowed for the first time in many hours.

Looking further, he could just make out the wisps of fine hair that shot out from under the loosely-woven cap. One little hand was held beneath the chin, fingers tightly curled in the smallest fist he’d ever seen. This was his baby. His and Eliza’s. Liam’s heart threatened to burst at the thought.

“You can hold him,” Eliza suggested, tenderness evident in her voice.

Liam stood reverently and removed his jacket, his eyes still on the bassinet. Moving toward the sink, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves to his forearms. He scrubbed his hands and wrists under the water thoroughly, catching his appearance in the mirror as he reached for a paper towel. Choosing not to dwell on the circles under his eyes or the dark shadow across his jawline, he went instead to his son’s side.

His wife’s eyes were on him as he regarded the sleeping child. Lifting his gaze to meet hers briefly, he was startled by the sudden appearance of tears. At the furrowing of his brow, she shook her head. “I’m fine, Liam. Just relieved.”

She didn’t add for now, but he knew that she must feel it. The night had been hellish for both of them, and he expected it would be at least a matter of weeks before either of them was truly fine. Still, he flashed her a heartened smile and turned his eyes back to his son.

He hated to wake the child, but the urge to hold him close was overpowering. With an exaggerated slowness, he lifted the swaddled baby into the crook of his arm. The tiny face contracted at the change, and eyelids fluttered open cautiously to reveal gray-blue eyes. Liam settled his son against his chest, struck by the expressive yawning that was taking place before him.

Feeling Eliza watching him again, he peered over to catch her staring. “I just can’t believe he’s ours,” she whispered through a tired smile.

“And I can’t believe how calm he is after everything he’s been through in the past several hours. It doesn’t seem to have fazed him at all.”

Liam looked up again to see that his wife had not been so fortunate. Although she tried to hide it, her strength was fading fast. She made an admirable attempt to stifle a yawn, but he’d seen similar displays often enough not to be fooled. “If you’re able to, you should rest while you can,” he encouraged, walking back to the chair at her side. He’d seen enough of hospitals to know that they would be afforded little time without interruption, especially as long as she remained post operative.

“I don’t want to,” she insisted, fighting back a second yawn.

“We’ll still be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, leaning forward to meet her lips in a kiss. Her skin was cool and chapped beneath his, but he savored the intimacy in the gesture nonetheless. 

Yet again, her presence had brought him back from the brink of uncertainty and despair. More than just possibility, she was the fulfillment of everything he’d ever needed in a wife. He pressed a tender kiss to the hair at her crown. “I’m so proud of you, Eliza."

Liam sat down on the firm cushion of the chair, shifting his weight so that he could lay his son down on the flat surface of his thighs. The child was awake and still plagued by incessant yawns, although they had grown less frequent.

“Liam?” the question came through the croaky voice of sleep and he turned his focus once more to his wife.

“Yes, my love?”

“Next time Olivia wants my help planning an event, I’m doing it over Skype.”

He chuckled in spite of himself, “I’m sure she’ll understand.” In truth, he had no intention of letting her out of his sight for quite some time.

“Good.” This final word was scarcely audible as Eliza’s heavy eyelids sank with sleep.

Silence prevailed for several moments. Liam was lost in thought, his mind running over the events of the past five hours. He wasn’t sure how something which had been so excruciating only an hour before could feel so perfect now, but his joy in meeting his son had quickly struck all other experience from recent memory.

The baby grew increasingly active, fighting the constraints of the tight blanket with growing agitation. “You don’t like being trapped, do you?” Determining to solve his son’s dilemma, Liam drew one hand away from the child and began unfastening the buttons of his shirt until his chest was exposed. Then, with slow, careful movements, he tugged the outer corner of the blanket and began the process of unwrapping the tightly-bound cloth that held the baby in place.

“I’ve been waiting so long to meet you,” he confided in hushed tones. The unfocused eyes regarded him seriously as he pulled away the final layer of fabric. “If I’d known you were coming tonight, I’d have at least put on fresh clothes and shaved this day-old stubble.”

The bowed legs extended to stretch as they were freed from the confines of cloth. Smiling at the jumble of activity, Liam paused in his own movement. “Still, you don’t mind seem to mind seeing me this way.” His son gave no answer, but cocked his head to one side, staring upward. “And that is a very good thing. I don’t usually look such a mess, but you should know what you’re in for.”

He lifted the baby to his bare chest, leaning back so that the infant could rest at a comfortable angle against him. By the time he’d pulled up the blanket to cover them, the child had become content with the new position, stilling his movements as he relaxed against his father’s skin.

Liam cocked his head to see that the baby had returned to sleep, his even breathing barely perceptible against his chest. He rubbed a steady circles against the child’s back, inhaling the strangely alluring scent of downy hair.  

Tears welled in his eyes, not for the first time that night. “Sleep well, my son.”

Uneasy. The word came back to him in the quiet of the night, but it no longer had any staying power. Here, with his wife resting beside him and his newborn son respiring steadily against his skin, Liam was lulled into peaceful sleep.